


'Company' aka How Merlin Met the Love of his Life (and a Few Others, Besides)

by lachatblanche



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-05
Updated: 2011-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-22 06:13:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 78,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin does How I Met Your Mother. In other words, Merlin's quest to find his One True Love with the help of his friends, crappy action films and lots of alcohol along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

 

**‘Company'**

**aka How Merlin Met the Love of his Life (and a Few Others, Besides)**

 

_January 8th, 2017_

 

It was the night of Merlin’s engagement party and everyone was winding down. Having worked all of the energy and excitement out of their system through extensive use of the karaoke machine and excessive dancing – after all, they weren’t as young as they used to be - the mood was generally mellow and most people were sat about on chairs or on the floor of Merlin’s apartment, a glass of wine in their hands. Merlin sat on his favourite sofa, surrounded by his closest friends, feeling remarkably content with the world. Life was good.

He was broken out of his reverie when Elena perked up from where she was sat on the floor and waved in his direction, trying to catch his attention.

“Come on then, Merlin. Let’s hear it!” she said, leaning forward eagerly.

Merlin tilted his head to the side, a small frown forming on his brow.

“Huh?” he asked intelligently.

“The story!” Elena bounced enthusiastically. At Merlin’s blank expression she sighed. “You know, _the_ story?” Still no recognition. “The story of how you two met!”

“Ah,” Merlin nodded in recognition as his other friends were roused out of their lethargy and added their own calls for the story. “It’s nothing much really. I mean, there I was one day when-”

“No!” Elena wailed. “Not like _that_! Tell it _properly_. We want the _whole_ story. Not the two-minute version!”

Everyone else chimed in a chorus of agreement, causing Merlin to smile.

“Okay, okay!” he laughed. “Are you sure that you want it, though? It’s a long story …”

He watched as almost everyone in the vicinity immediately snuggled down into their seats in anticipation, waiting expectantly. Merlin bit his lip to keep from smiling before glancing up from under his eyelashes at the opposite end of the room. There, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a glass of red wine in his hand, was his fiancé, the man he loved the most in the world and the man that he was going to marry. They exchanged warm smiles before Merlin turned his attention back to his captive audience.

“Very well then,” he sighed. “But don’t blame me – you asked for it! You have been warned.”

He took one last long gulp of his drink, draining the glass, before sitting up straight and looking out at the people assembled all around him, all waiting patiently. He took a deep breath.

 

**Our story starts back in the cold winter of 2007 – or was it 2008? – well anyway, it was in the days when I was blissfully unaware that I was anything other than a firm heterosexual. The skies were gloomy and it had been raining all day. I had finished work early for a change and so naturally, I’d headed for the pub. And that was where I first saw him. I was sitting there, wondering whether or not to call Morgana when –**

**Oh - no – WAIT!**

**Let’s back up a bit. You see, Morgana – you all know Morgana, right? – well, she is a very important part of this story. I wouldn’t be getting married right now if it weren’t for her. And since she was my very first step in the right direction towards matrimony, it’s only fair that I begin with her. In fact, I should probably start from the very first day that I met her. So, there I was, sat alone at this party, feeling miserable because of Gwen and Lance –**

**WHOA, wait.**

**Stop.**

**I can’t begin like that. As much as I love Morgana, she isn’t actually the person to start the story with. The only reason I met Morgana is because of Gwen and Lance. And not just because they dragged me to a party. You see, this whole story started because Gwen and Lance made an announcement. An announcement so enormous and terrifying in its impact that it almost sent me to my knees then and there. You see, Gwen and Lance had just revealed that they –**

**…Actually, in order for you to understand this better I should just start from the beginning. I mean _the_ beginning. The absolute beginning. I mean – not the Big Bang or anything – or the Adam and Eve thing, that’s not what I meant. What I mean is that this whole story can be traced back to the day that I met Gwen and Lance. Or, considering that I met him first and that it was because of him that I met Gwen, this whole story can be traced back to the day I met Lancelot Griffinson. Back then, I never would have guessed that he would be my best friend all this time later. Back then I didn’t even know if I liked the guy or not! You see, back then, he was just the guy who was lying in bed and smoking pot in what was supposed to be my room …**

 

**HOW MERLIN MET GWEN AND LANCE**

 

_Last week of August, 2000_

 

Merlin dropped his bags and suitcases outside of the room with a sigh of relief. He had been beginning to regret his decision to say goodbye to his mother outside of campus – he could have done with an extra pair of hands to help him move in. Not to mention the fact that his mother would have probably helped him to unpack … and by ‘helped’, Merlin meant ‘done single-handedly’. But he was a big boy now and he was determined to do things on his own. It was his first day at his university lodgings and the first time that he had properly been away from home. He was going to start it by being a mature, thoughtful, _sophisticated_ adult.

Grasping hold of his bags with one hand, he took his new room key and fitted it in the lock before turning it. Propping the door open with his right foot, he immediately reached out to grab the rest of his bags and suitcases and bring them inside, allowing the door to shut behind him. Sighing contentedly, he turned around to take in his room for the first time.

Only to see that it was already occupied.

“Who the hell are you?” Merlin demanded, taking a shocked step back.

The man, handsome with tawny skin and warm brown eyes, looked back at him in equal shock.

“I’m Lancelot,” the man said dumbly after a moment. He blinked. “Who are you?”

“Merlin,” Merlin replied, just as blankly. Then he wrinkled his nose. “What kind of name is _Lancelot_?”

The man frowned.

“What kind of name is _Merlin_?” he immediately retorted with what Merlin had to admit was a kind of brilliant argument. The guy should be a lawyer. “Besides,” the man suddenly added with a smile, surprising Merlin. “My friend’s call me Lance. Lance Griffinson, at your service.” He gave an elegant bow, which was particularly impressive in its grace, considering that he was still lying on his bed.

“Merlin Emrys,” Merlin replied, before hesitantly adding, “The pleasure’s all mine …?”

Lancelot beamed at him.

“I _knew_ we were going to be great friends!” he said happily, as if Merlin’s last words had been some sort of secret password into his good graces. “This will work out fine!”

“ _What_ will work out fine?” Merlin couldn’t help the exasperation that crept into his voice, despite Lancelot’s friendliness. “And again – what the hell are you doing in my room?!”

Lancelot blinked at him, wide-eyed and bewildered.

“ _Your_ room?” he asked in surprise. “But this is _my_ room!”

“No, you must have it wrong,” Merlin said determinedly. “I must have checked the room number and address a hundred times. This is definitely _my_ room. Room 101.”

“Hey, my room number is 101 as well!” Lancelot grinned at him, happy once more. “That’s a coincidence, isn’t it?!”

Merlin closed his eyes briefly. Great. Not only was he stuck with a room-stealer, he was stuck with a dim-witted room-stealer.

“It’s not _that_ much of a coincidence, considering that _we are both in the same room_!” he said tightly. He had been looking forward to having a relaxing shower and a nap once he had reached his room and this mix-up was way more than he could be bothered to deal with at the moment. “Obviously there’s been a mistake.”

Lancelot frowned for a second before his expression cleared.

“Maybe we’re supposed to share the room,” he said, shrugging unconcernedly.

Merlin stared at him.

“ _Share_ it?” he asked, mouth agape. “And _how_ precisely, do you expect us to do that?”

Lancelot paused and seemed to give the question some real thought.

“Well,” he said after a moment. “I suppose that bed over there would help.”

Merlin turned around and sure enough, on the other side of the room, blocked by the presence of a large wardrobe, was indeed a second bed.

“Oh,” Merlin couldn’t think of anything to say to that. “Huh. I guess – I guess we are going to be roommates then?” he said hesitantly.

Lancelot smiled back at him, easy and open.

“Yup,” he said happily. “I’m Lance, by the way, Lance Griffinson.”

Merlin frowned.

“Yes, you said that already,” he said warily, wondering if there really was something wrong with his new roommate. He seemed nice enough but you could never really tell …

“Oh,” Lancelot tilted his head. Then he smiled again. “Anyway, I’m glad that you and I will be friends. You seem cool.” He narrowed his eyes and scrutinised Merlin. “ _Are_ you cool?” he asked curiously.

“Er …” There was really only one way that Merlin could answer that. “Yes?”

Lancelot beamed again. He seemed to do that an awful lot.

“Great!” he smiled, and then seemingly out of nowhere, he raised his left hand and brought a rolled-up object to his mouth, before lighting it with the lighter in his right hand.

Merlin’s jaw dropped.

“Hey!” he said, outraged. “You can’t smoke in here! It’s against the rules!”

Lancelot blinked at him and then looked at him in the way that Merlin expected a reproachful puppy would look. His disappointed face seemed to say _I thought you said that you were cool_ , and Merlin could not help feeling a little bit guilty even though he knew that he was right.

“Can’t you – you know,” he waved his hands vaguely. “Take that outside somewhere?” he asked hopefully.

Lancelot seemed to think about that for a moment.

“I would,” he said at last. “But I reckon that it’s safer for me to do it in here. _You_ know,” he added before Merlin could object. “Safer _legally_.”

It took Merlin a moment to figure out the connotations of what Lancelot had just said. Then his jaw dropped.

“Do you mean to tell me-” he said fiercely, his voice hissing. “Do you mean to tell me that what you are smoking is – that you are smoking _drugs_?”

“Yeah,” Lancelot nodded as if he were a teacher proud of his student for figuring out a complex mathematical problem. He took a drag from the joint before pausing and turning to Merlin.

“Here,” he said. “You want some?” Lancelot held out a roll-up full of god knows what.

Merlin’s eyes widened at the nerve of this guy. He stood there, shocked, for a full minute before he was finally able to respond. When he did, his expression was full of righteous indignation and firm resolve.

“No, I most certainly do _not_ want some!” he said defiantly, tossing his head and secretly feeling slightly proud of himself. No one had ever offered him drugs before. And here he was, standing firm against temptation. His mother would be so proud. “And just so you know, I do _not_ take drugs!”

Lancelot eyed him for a moment before shrugging.

“Suit yourself,” he said unconcernedly, before taking a drag from the joint and going back to lying down and staring at the ceiling in fascination.

Merlin watched him, seeing the lazy contentment on Lancelot’s face. He saw the smoke swirling up like a delicate wreath from the end of the burning paper. His fingers twitched. He bit his lip. His mother hadn’t left him even five minutes ago …

 

_Ten minutes later …_

 

“Whoa,” Merlin said, dropping the end of the first joint in an empty, tea-stained mug.

Lance nodded in complete understanding.

“This is some good shit,” Merlin said, taking another joint from Lance.

“Would you know if it was bad shit?” Lance asked, half amused, half curious.

“Probably not,” Merlin admitted. “But that’s what they always say on TV, right?”

“Do they?” Lance sounded surprised.

“Do who?”

“They?”

“Who’s they?”

Lance gestured. “The TV people. _You_ know. _Them_.”

“Oh!” Merlin nodded in recognition. “ _Them_. Why didn’t you say so?”

Lance frowned for a moment.

“I don’t know!” he said, blinking in surprise. “I should have just said, shouldn’t I? It would have saved us a lot of trouble.”

Merlin nodded and looked down at Lance beatifically.

“You should stick with me, Lancey,” he said seriously. “I’ll steer you right. I’m smart. I’m a smart boy. That’s what mum always says. ‘My smart little angel’ – that’s what she calls me.”

“S’nice!” Lance smiled dopily at him.

“It _is_ nice, isn’t it?” Merlin smiled back at Lance, just as goofily.

“I’m smart too, you know,” Lance said confidingly. “I am. I’m studying law. Only smart people study law. That means I’m smart!”

“You’re going to be a lawyer?” Merlin’s eyes widened as he gazed at his new friend in awe, a new-found respect for him winding its way through the smoke-filled haze in his brain.

“Yup,” Lance said happily. His eyes shone. “And then I’m going to help people. I’m going to be a pro-bono lawyer.”

Merlin started to snigger.

Lance frowned.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, put-out.

Merlin started to giggle again.

“You – you said you were going to be a _pro-boner_ lawyer!” he snickered, cackling away like an old lady.

Lance stared at him blankly for a second before he too started to let out what could be considered a very manly giggle.

“I did say I wanted to help people!” he said, causing Merlin to snort loudly.

They both sniggered away until they began to feel slightly dizzy and fell back on the bed. Merlin’s head somehow ended up on Lance’s chest.

“Lance?” Merlin said sleepily.

“Mmmhmm?” Lancelot lazily raised an eyelid.

“You’re my best friend,” Merlin said fuzzily.

“Yeah,” Lance said, drowsy with sleep.

“Lance?”

“Hmm?”

Merlin was silent for a moment.

“I like pot,” he said, sounding almost surprised at the admission, before his eyes fell shut.

“Me too,” Lance agreed, before he too followed Merlin into sleep.

 

*

They were woken up just over an hour later by the sound of loud knocking at their door, which made them startle awake.

“Whozzat?” Lance asked muzzily.

Merlin, though surprised to find himself cuddled up to Lance’s (admittedly manly and well-defined) chest, was a bit quicker to come back to his senses.

“Someone’s here!” he yelped. He looked around the room in panic, and groaned when he saw a half-full bag of joints. Oh god, what had he done? He had smoked pot! He had knowingly accepted drugs from a complete stranger! What had he been thinking?! And now someone was at the door! Someone must have smelt the fumes and- “Oh my god, they know! We’re going to be thrown out! I haven’t even started classes yet! What will mum say? I can never show my face to her again!”

“Calm down, calm down,” Lance patted him on the back reassuringly while getting up from the bed. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll just go and see who it is, shall I?”

Before Merlin could stop him or even hide the mug, Lance had glided over to the door and opened it. Merlin tensed and prepared himself for the worst.

Only to turn around and see a very pretty girl with a hopeful smile standing outside the door. He blinked.

Even Lance seemed to be somewhat affected at seeing the girl there. His eyes went very wide and his cheeks went very red and his mouth opened and closed a few times, wordlessly.

“Hi,” the girl said, her hopeful expression now changing to reflect something akin to Lance’s own upon seeing him there. She was pretty in a rather unassuming way, with chocolaty brown skin and curly black hair. She looked very sweet and Merlin was sure that she was going to run far away and never return once she realised that he and Lance were a bunch of no-good, druggy pot-heads.

“Hi,” Lance said with something like a heartfelt sigh.

“I’m Gwen,” she said rather breathlessly, her eyes fixed on Lance’s face. “Well, it’s Guinevere, but my friends call me Gwen. You can call me Gwen. If you want to. You don’t have to. Call me anything.”

“Gwen,” Lance seemed to relish the name. He smiled dopily at her. “I’m Lancelot. Lance. Lancelot Griffinson. Call me Lance. Please.”

Gwen was now staring at Lance with hearts in her eyes, an expression which, if Merlin was correct (and he was) Lance now shared. He decided that it was high time for him to make his presence known.

“Hello,” Merlin said, standing up from the bed and waving awkwardly at her. “I’m Merlin.” Gwen seemed startled to see him there, as if she hadn’t known there was anyone else present except for her and Lance. Then her eyes narrowed as she took in Merlin’s bed hair and his and Lance’s mutually rumpled state. Her face fell slightly and her cheeks went slightly red.

“Oh – oh, hello!” she stammered. “I didn’t see you! I – I mean, I’m sorry to disturb you! I live across the hall and … I didn’t know – I mean-”

Lance and Merlin just stared at her in confusion before Merlin realised the source of her embarrassment.

“Oh! Wait, no – I just moved in!” he hurried to explain. He pointed to his still unopened suitcases at the back of the room. “And Lance was already here. But then I – I was tired, I guess so I fell asleep, and …” His babbling trailed off as he saw Gwen’s narrowed eyes focus on the plastic bag filled with joints that Merlin had failed to push out of sight. Eyes still narrowed, Gwen sniffed the air in their room.

“Is that …”

“No!” Merlin immediately denied at the same time as Lance, smiling happily, said “Yes!”

There was silence.

They all looked at each other.

Then Lance shuffled on the spot and, smiling shyly, glanced up at Gwen.

“Would you like some?” he offered.

Merlin could have died on the spot. He winced and waited for the outrage.

Gwen tilted her head to the side, considering.

“Sure,” she said brightly. “It’s been a long day.”

Merlin’s jaw dropped as Gwen followed Lance inside and allowed him to light a joint for her. She sighed, taking a deep drag.

“Oh yeah,” she sighed contentedly, her eyes closed. “That’s some good shit.”

 

**“What?!” Elena and the rest of Merlin’s friends practically shrieked. Next to him, Gwen buried her head in Merlin’s shoulder. He chuckled and patted her on the head.**

**“Yup,” he said, smirking. “Dear, innocent Guinevere here wasn’t the perfect angel you all assumed she always was.”**

**“It’s not that bad!” Gwen protested, raising her head from where she had hidden it in Merlin’s shoulder, peeking out. “I mean, it’s not exactly a rare thing! I was an Art student! Everyone did it!” she pouted and glared at them all accusingly. “And I didn’t notice you all getting worked up about the fact that Merlin and Lance smoked pot! How is that fair?!”**

**“That was kind of a surprise,” Gilli said. “But it wasn’t as unbelievable … I mean we all know about the kind of things that Merlin and Lance get up to.”**

**“Hey!” Lance said in mild protest, smiling.**

**“What sort of things?” one of the girls asked curiously.**

**Lance and Merlin shared a glance.**

**“I was getting to that.” Merlin smiled and took a sip of his drink. “Now, where was I?”**

 

“Oh yeah,” Gwen sighed contentedly. “That’s some good shit.”

“Hey, that’s what Merlin said!” Lance said delightedly, lighting his own joint.

Gwen looked up at Merlin in something like approval.

“You know your stuff then,” she said, nodding at him.

Merlin’s jaw dropped even lower.

“Oh yeah!” Lance agreed before Merlin could say anything. “Merlin’s great! He’s smart, he is. I am, too! I’m going to be a lawyer!” he puffed his chest out proudly.

Gwen looked suitably impressed.

“I’m going to be an artist,” she said dreamily. “I’m going to go to art school in Paris and then I’m going to open my own gallery and I will be famous.”

“Wow!” Lance looked at Gwen as if she had hung the moon and stars.

“What about you, Merlin?” Gwen asked curiously.

“What? Oh, I’m going to be an architect,” Merlin replied distractedly.

Lance turned to look at him, his eyes round.

“I didn’t know that!” he said, surprised. “You never told me!”

“Well considering we just met about an hour ago …” Merlin said pointedly. When Gwen and Lance both looked at him as if to say _Yeah, and?_ , he sighed and rubbed his head. His internal debate barely lasted a second before he went and plonked himself down on the bed next to Gwen. “Well, let me have one then,” he said resignedly, his mouth crooking up when both Lance and Gwen grinned happily at him. Lighting the paper, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He had never expected this to happen …

And that was how Merlin Emrys met his two best friends in all the world, Lancelot and Guinevere.

*

 

Merlin, Lance and Gwen became firm friends after that. Luckily, Lance soon ran out of pot and couldn’t seem to get hold of any more after that, so the illegal activity stayed down to a minimum. They soon fell into a regular routine where they hung out together and had fun, all the while turning a blind eye to any surreptitious glances or blushing that any member of their little trio may or may not have indulged in.

Merlin felt a bit at a loss over what to do about Lance and Gwen. While he freely admitted that he found Gwen to be very pretty and that he wouldn’t have minded dating her, he knew from the start that he shouldn’t even bother trying. Firstly, he would never do that to Lance, who seemed to worship the ground that Gwen walked on. Merlin knew that if he did try to date her, then Lance, who was almost stupidly noble, would gallantly step aside, but then Merlin would be stuck with a pining, love-sick roommate and he didn’t want that. But even if he had wanted to, he knew that he would have very little chance: Gwen was as stupidly love-struck with Lance as he was with her. It was obvious and even Merlin, who was as oblivious as the day was long, could see it. Therefore, it was deeply, extremely and incredibly irritating for him that neither Lance nor Gwen seemed to realise that the other returned their feelings. They were hopeless. Merlin resolved that if they didn’t do something about it soon, he would be forced to interfere.

Otherwise, he was having a great time. His classes were fun and his lecturers were brilliant and he was enjoying himself immensely. Even better though, was that he and Lance were getting on like a house on fire. They had become great friends and they were both pleased to find that the other was a genuinely nice person – something that helped immensely when you lived with said person. They also had a lot in common. It was this realisation that had started their adventures together.

“I like beer,” Merlin said groggily one night, sitting in a pub with Lance. Gwen was busy with her own roommate and so hadn’t joined them. “Beer’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed.

“This is the best beer I’ve ever had!” Merlin said earnestly, gazing at his pint glass with love in his eyes.

“Hmm,” Lance took a sip of his drink and put it down again. “Not me. The beer in the pub up the road is much better.”

Merlin jerked back in astonishment.

“It is not!” he protested, half angry, half doubtful.

“It is!” Lance nodded earnestly. “Taste it for yourself. You will see.”

Merlin frowned, his eyes narrowing blearily, before nodding.

“Okay then,” he agreed, getting up from his seat. “Let’s go there.” And walking forward, he promptly tripped over his own feet and fell over.

Lance, who could handle his drink much better than Merlin, merely sighed.

“Maybe tomorrow, eh?” he said gently.

Merlin gave him a wide inebriated smile.

“You’re on,” he said, before promptly passing out.

And that was how they had started the Great Beer Quest of 2000. They had indeed gone to the pub up the road the next day and Merlin had admitted that the beer there was possibly better. An old man sitting next to them had overheard them and had added his own thoughts to the mix, saying that the best beer that he had ever had had been in a pub in London some years ago. Merlin had looked at Lance and Lance had looked at Merlin.

The next day, which had thankfully been a Saturday, they had hopped on the first train down to London and ordered two pints from the pub that the old man had told them about. Another man had then offered his opinion that the best beer he had ever had had been in Yorkshire. In Yorkshire, another man had suggested a pub in Essex. Someone else had suggested somewhere in Kent. Lance and Merlin had dutifully followed each of these suggestions and at each place they had given the pub in question a mark out of ten. They had disagreed slightly over the Yorkshire rating, but they had both agreed that so far, Kent had been the best. In this way, during weekends and term holidays and any other spare time that they could get, they travelled all over the country, going from England to Scotland to Wales and Ireland (and if they had ended up there in time for St. Patrick’s Day then it was purely in the interest of research and not at all because it was an excuse to get royally pissed and dress up as leprechauns. Which they totally did anyway).

It was only when Merlin realised with a sudden panic that he had very little money left in his bank account that they reluctantly came to a stop. Which was a shame, because the last person had made the absolutely amazing suggestion of visiting the Oktoberfest in Munich, something that both he and Lance were very keen to do. Merlin’s realisation of his lack of funds had come at a very inconvenient time. And so the Great Beer Quest slowly dwindled away.

That didn’t mean that this was the end of their adventures, though. Gwen had one day baked them an apple pie and upon tasting it, Lance had immediately declared it to be that it was the best apple pie that he had ever tasted, despite the fact that it could have done with a tad more sugar. Merlin, who wasn’t hopelessly love-struck, had revealed that he had actually tasted better. Lance had looked ready to challenge Merlin to a duel for that insult but Merlin had glanced at him meaningfully and Lance’s eyes had widened in understanding.

That weekend, they began what they later christened the Great Apple Pie Quest – neither of them pretended to be particularly imaginative about it. They toured the country searching for the best apple pie and eventually, they actually found it in a little shop down in Devon.

This success spurred on many other quests, including one where Lance and Merlin toured up and down the country in search of plush toy unicorns – Merlin couldn’t even remember how _that_ had come about, but he had been pretty sure that it had been the result of a night of _very_ heavy drinking.

Gwen joined them on some of those nights, though she left the questing to them, unless the quest involved trying to somehow set Merlin up with a girl. In those quests, she was very involved. She would proactively survey the entire bar and spot a girl who ‘looks like she would be good with you, Merlin’ (which really meant that she wasn’t out of Merlin’s league and wouldn’t laugh in his face if he asked her out). She would then urge (though Merlin would use the word ‘bully’) Merlin into approaching her and asking her for a drink. Merlin had to admit that he owed most of his hook-ups at university to Gwen – without her constant cajoling he might never have worked up the courage to approach some of those girls.

Unsurprisingly enough, the question of who to set Lance up with never came up. Lance never asked and she never offered. They would just sit there, smiling shyly at each other and watching like proud parents as they sent Merlin off to score. If Merlin hadn’t been too busy, well, scoring, it might have been enough to drive him insane.

By the end of their first year together as friends, Merlin had already come up with at least a dozen brilliant and complex plans, all of which involved Lance finally manning up and kissing Gwen. He had it all planned out – he had invited Gwen over to his and Lance’s room to watch a film (some generic new rom-com), had some smooth jazz ready and waiting on the CD player, and had already stockpiled the alcohol that would be necessary in order for Lance to finally get over himself and stop acting like a schoolboy with his first crush. Merlin was planning on getting everything ready up to the point of Lance getting drunk, and then quickly slip away, leaving Gwen and Lance conveniently alone.

They were twenty minutes into the film when Merlin excused himself from the room, leaving to go to the kitchen, telling Gwen and Lance that he needed more popcorn. He waited in the kitchen for a minute or two before pulling out his phone and heading back to his room.

“I’m so sorry,” Merlin said, opening the door and walking in. “Mary Collins called and she wants to see-” he stopped abruptly, shocked to his very core. For inside his room, sat in front of the DVD player, were Gwen and Lance. And they were kissing. Each other.

Merlin’s jaw dropped as they both jumped away guiltily.

“Wha-” Merlin gasped out, indicating furiously between them both. “How did – when did you …?”

Lance saved him from his incoherent flailing.

“A little while ago,” he said, shifting guiltily in his seat. “It just … happened.”

Gwen snorted but Merlin ignored this for the time being.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.

Both Lance and Gwen looked a little shame-faced at this.

“We didn’t want to rush into things,” Lance explained. “And we both wanted to see how things would go before we let anyone know.”

“But this is _me_!” Merlin practically whined. “I’m your best friend! And of _course_ things will work out between you two – you were made for each other! You’re going to end up old and grey, sitting in the garden in a couple of rocking chairs with a bunch of grandkids running around your feet! How could you not know that?”

“I’m sure you will be sitting with us in a rocking chair as well,” Lance said loyally, though it was obvious that he was deflecting the question. Merlin felt a little nudge of _something_ at his words, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

“That didn’t answer my question, Lance,” he said instead, folding his arms.

Lance was silent and didn’t speak. Finally, Gwen rolled her eyes.

“He didn’t want to tell you because he was worried that you might have feelings for me,” she said bluntly, waving an impatient hand when Lance looked at her in mortification. She rolled her eyes again at Merlin. “He said that he wouldn’t risk hurting you and that we shouldn’t tell you until he was sure how you felt about me. I told him he was being silly, but – you know how he is!”

Merlin blinked at them in surprise, unsure of how to respond to that. Then he realised something.

“So that’s what you were on about the other night!” he exclaimed, before starting to laugh. “I was wondering why you kept asking me about Gwen and what I thought of her – I just thought that you were working up the nerve to finally ask her out or something!”

Lance looked slightly red.

“So – you _don’t_ have feelings for her?” he asked, almost hesitantly.

Merlin thought for a moment before smiling wickedly.

“Alas, you have found my secret,” he threw a dramatic hand over his eyes. He turned to Gwen who began to giggle, before going down on one knee. “Gwennie, oh Gwennie, I love you, I love you, I _love_ yoooooooouuu!”

Gwen burst out laughing and even Lance had to crack a smile.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “I still think that it was a valid concern but I get it – you’re not in love with Gwen.”

Merlin grinned broadly at Lance.

“Lance, astounding as it may seem to you, not everyone who meets Gwen falls in love with her – not that I don’t love you, Gwen – as a friend, I mean. But that doesn’t mean that I am _in_ love with you.”

Lance took a moment to take this in before shrugging.

“Works for me,” he said, before pulling Gwen into a kiss.

“Whoa, whoa!” Merlin protested, pulling them apart. They both had a stupidly besotted expression on their faces. “Not so fast! You still haven’t told me what happened! What made you finally man up, Lance?”

Lance went red all over again and looked at his feet, fidgeting. Gwen started to giggle again.

Merlin looked between them both before an impossibly huge grin spread over his face.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh – don’t tell me! You _didn’t_! _You_ didn’t make the first move – _Gwen_ did! Oh, mate! You are so lucky to have her!”

Lance looked up at that.

“Yes, I am,” he said, smiling warmly, and causing Gwen to flush prettily. “I know I am.”

Merlin smiled to himself. Gwen and Lance were finally together. Things were going to be perfect.

 

*

 

Things were decidedly _not_ perfect.

Merlin had thought that when Lance and Gwen finally got together then the pathetic mooning and longing sighs would be over and he wouldn’t have to listen to the two of them wax lyrical over each other.

How wrong he was.

Instead of dwindling away, the symptoms merely reasserted themselves with ten times the strength they had previously held. Lance’s eyes had bigger hearts in them, Gwen’s sighs came twice as often, and soon, even alcohol couldn’t muffle Merlin’s ears to the praises being sung between them.

“Merlin,” Lance said tipsily. “You don’t know how beautiful she is, Merlin – Merlin! I thought she was the most beautiful thing on the planet the moment I laid eyes on her. But I was wrong!” Merlin lifted his whisky-fumed head almost hopefully at this. “Now that I know her better, she is ten times more beautiful than I had previously thought!” Merlin’s head clunked back down on the table.

“I think I might love him,” Gwen said earnestly, looking Merlin deep in the eyes. “I honestly, truly think that I might love him.”

“You’ve already started picking out wedding patterns, haven’t you?” Merlin asked, half-amused, half-despairing.

Gwen blushed, a smile on her face.

But that wasn’t the worst bit.

No, not by half.

Merlin returned to his room, his mind still abuzz from that afternoon’s lecture on post-modernist architecture and he couldn’t wait to do get working on his assignment for that class. Smiling to himself, he threw open his door and walked into his room-

Only to be met by shrieks and a pillow to his face – but not before he had seen both Lance and Gwen in just their underwear, tangled together and sweaty on the bed, obviously having been very much in the middle of something before Merlin had interrupted.

“Couldn’t you knock?” Lance’s voice was unusually brusque and not a little irritated. Then again, the man _had_ been interrupted before he’d got to the good part, and from the pillow that he used to cover his crotch, he and Gwen had spent quite a while on the foreplay.

Merlin gaped at them, while at the same time trying not to look at them directly.

“It’s _my_ room!” he protested. “You _can’t_ just – you _know_ that I come back at this time! I _always_ come back at this time!”

“Well,” Lance frowned. “Can’t you – I don’t know, _go away_ for a little while?”

Merlin gaped at him.

Lance’s face turned a little sheepish.

“Please?” he added, giving Merlin his patented puppy-dog look he knew full well that Merlin could never resist. When Gwen joined in with the doe eyes then he knew that he had no choice.

“Fine!” he snapped, pulling the strap of his bag higher. “I’ll just go then, shall I? Just go out into the cold, all on my own …”

“It’s spring,” Lance said impatiently, already turning to Gwen.

“All on my own …”

“Bye Merlin.”

“With nobody but myself …”

“Merlin …”

“With nobody who wants me …”

“Merlin!” Gwen suddenly sat up, annoyance etched on her face. “If you don’t get the hell out of here right now, then me and Lance are going to fuck right here, right now in front of you and believe me, you do not want to see that!”

Merlin was half outraged, half perversely intrigued by this statement, but one glare of fury from Gwen convinced him that it was safer to take his outrage somewhere else. Preferably somewhere where there was less sex going on – unless of course, it was he who was doing the sexing.

Of course, this wasn’t the last time it happened. Unfortunately for Merlin, he seemed to walk in on Gwen and Lance in various stages of undress and intimacy what seemed to be almost every other day.

“Can’t you guys use _her_ room for once?” Merlin yelled as he was chased out the door by various objects being hurled at his head (including, he shuddered, Lance’s old underpants).

Even worse was the time he came home and, walking in cautiously, was relieved to see that there was no sign of the unstoppably horny couple on Lance’s bed … only to turn around and with horror see that they were going right at it on his bed.

“What the hell?” he screeched, torn between throwing them off his bed and getting the fuck out of there.

After a particularly loud moan he quickly decided on the latter option, yelling “You fucking _better_ change those sheets!” even as he legged it out the door.

And that was pretty much how the rest of their time at university went. Merlin went on having a few relationships every so often and enjoying class and his time with his friends, while Gwen and Lance remained happy and in love, and in every sense a perfect couple. Luckily, they soon got over the ‘screwing-like-rabbits’ stage brought on by the first flush of their relationship and were now more thoughtful about the times they chose to express their intimacies, though every now and then they would enjoy surprising Merlin with random bouts of sex just as he walked through the door (luckily they had stopped screwing around on Merlin’s bed – or at least, he very much hoped that they had).

The three of them were joined at the hip after that. They graduated together, they went job-hunting together, and when they all eventually fell into work, they all celebrated together. Shortly after they had left university, Gwen inherited an apartment let to her by her grandparents. Unwilling to break up their friendship, Merlin and Lance soon followed her down and bought an apartment together near hers. They swore that they had bought it due to its location and its bargain-like price but really it was because it was situated almost on top of one of the best pubs that they had found while on the Great Beer Quest. This pub was called The Great Dragon, which for some reason Merlin found hilarious, and though they had no way of knowing, it would be the stage for many important events in their lives. Which thus brings us to …

 

**HOW GWEN AND LANCE GOT ENGAGED, THUS PROMPTING MERLIN TO SET OUT ON AN EPIC QUEST TO FIND HIS ONE TRUE LOVE**

 

_September 2007_

Merlin sat back in his seat, sipping his beer and watching the door for any sign of his two best friends, Lancelot and Gwen. He was early, he knew, but he had just finished making the final changes on a new building project of his for work and, feeling in a celebratory mood, had gone to the pub to meet his friends. Merlin had managed to secure their usual booth and sat there, waiting for the others. Business was unusually slow for a Saturday, but Merlin figured that it would fill up more later on. Besides, he thought to himself, all the better to celebrate his achievement with Gwen and Lance. After all the time he had spent toiling and working and fighting his way up the occupational ladder, he was finally beginning to feel like a proper architect. Once again, he thought to himself with a smile, things were decidedly perfect.

He was just finishing his first beer when he saw Gwen and Lance walk in. They were both flushed and beaming with happiness, and they gazed devotedly into each others eyes even as they entered the pub. Business as usual then, though Merlin admitted, they did seem even more sickeningly besotted than was normal. Lance had probably written Gwen another love ballad then, Merlin smirked to himself. Lance was a completely soppy romantic, for all that he was a lawyer. It was actually quite reassuring to know that some things never changed.

Merlin took a deep draught of his beer while waiting for Gwen and Lance to come over with their drinks. This usually took some time as the pub’s owner, John Kilgharrah (an Irish name, Merlin supposed, though he had never got around to asking) frequently roped them into long and confusing conversations about destinies and futures that never seemed to have any point to them – except, Merlin had to admit, for that period of time when Merlin was behind with his bar tab. Kilgharrah had seemed to take a certain malicious pleasure out of engaging him in conversations about coins, and when Merlin had embarrassedly replied that he only had enough on him to cover half of his tab, Kilgharrah had regarded him imperiously before telling him that in no uncertain terms could one half ever be a whole.

Merlin had nodded awkwardly before fleeing, not returning to the pub for a whole week until he had enough to cover the tab for the next two months. He was very grateful indeed when Kilgharrah relented and let up on the talk about Coins. Lance just laughed and revealed his suspicions that the old man merely did it so that the riddles and confusion would drive all the patrons to drink more. It certainly seemed to work in Merlin’s case. However, cryptic riddles and sayings were a very small price to pay in return as Kilgharrah was actually a kindly old soul who took a shine to Merlin and his friends and allowed them unusual leeway with their bar tabs and even went so far as to reserve their usual table for them. Not to mention the fact that he had some of the best beer in the country, the secret of which Kilgharrah guarded as fiercely as a dragon guarded its gold.

Merlin had just drained the last dregs from his mug when Gwen and Lance arrived. Before Merlin could speak, they set a large bottle of champagne down on the table.

“How did you know?” Merlin asked in amazement. “ _I_ didn’t know that I would finish the blueprints today! And I know it’s pretty amazing, but honestly you guys, you didn’t have to go to the trouble of getting me champagne!”

Gwen and Lance were looking at him like he had grown another head.

Merlin’s excitement died somewhat.

“Oh,” he said. “You _didn’t_ get it for me.” He couldn’t help the mournful note that crept into his voice.

“I’m sure you deserve it very much though,” Gwen said kindly as Lance patted Merlin on the back. “However,” here she shared a look with Lance. It was only then that Merlin realised that they hadn’t sat down and that they were sort of … buzzing with repressed excitement. Or nervousness. Or something. “Lance and I have something else to celebrate.”

Merlin felt the tautness of apprehension creep over him.

“Oh?” he asked slowly, his mind running through a million different scenarios (okay so the one where Lance and Gwen were undercover superheroes who had saved the world from an alien invasion was particularly unlikely, but the scenario in which Lance had gone and won the lottery was quite promising …)

“Yes,” Lance confirmed, swapping another look with his girlfriend. “Now, I know you Merlin, so I don’t want you to freak out or anything, but-”

“We’re engaged!!” Gwen squealed, unable to take the excitement any longer.

Merlin gaped. None of his scenarios had entailed _this_. They may have included victories over Martians or the successful evasion of an army of the undead, but not engagements.

“You what?” he asked when he finally got his voice back.

“We’re engaged!” Lance couldn’t help but smile broadly, his whole face shining with happiness. Merlin couldn’t help but smile as well. He was happy for them, he really was – he couldn’t think of any two people who deserved to be together more than they. Yet at the same time – at the same time …

“Why didn’t you tell me you were planning this?” he accused Lance in a small voice, feeling slightly hurt. They were best friends. Lance was supposed to _tell_ him things. Especially big, life-changing, scary things like this.

Lance looked slightly regretful at that, but he shrugged his shoulders ruefully.

“To tell the truth, I didn’t know myself,” he confessed. “I mean, I’ve had the idea in my head for a while – you know that I have. But I honestly didn’t have any plans to do it in the near future. And then just today, we were at Gwen’s place and - it just happened!”

“Hmm,” Merlin conceded. He had known it was coming of course. He just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. His curiosity quickly overrode his tumultuous feelings. “How did you do it? Did you have a ring?”

Gwen could not suppress a happy giggle at that. She smiled mischievously at a rather red Lance, before holding up her left hand to show off a large, chunky, luminous plastic ring, the presence of which immediately overrode Merlin’s shock at the surprise announcement.

He looked at the ring.

He frowned.

“Isn’t that the ring that we found in that Christmas cracker?” He squinted at it, puzzled.

“Yes!” Gwen beamed, looking down at the ring as if it were the most precious thing in the entire world.

“I saw something glinting under the sofa,” Lance explained. “So I decided to go and see what it was. I only just managed to get my fingers in – but I got it out!” Lance seemed oddly proud of this. Then again, Lance was the kind of guy who took great pleasure in the little things, so Merlin didn’t hold it against him. “When I turned around – I was already on my knees, you see – and held it up to look at it, it was the ring. And then Gwen walked in …”

“I knew that he wasn’t proposing then,” Gwen explained. “It was like one of those things that you see in comedies – you know, where the heroine thinks that the guy is proposing and in reality it’s all just a mistake …”

“But even as I was kneeling I just got a sense of this – this feeling of _rightness_ , you know?” Lance continued, turning to look at Gwen with so much love and tenderness that Merlin felt something in his heart clench and ache. “And I knew in that moment that I could never love anybody else and that I wanted Gwen to be my wife. I’ve always loved her. I don’t know why I waited so long to do this – there just didn’t seem to be any more point to waiting.” He reached out and grasped Gwen’s hands in his. “There is no one on this earth that I love as much as I love you,” he paused before adding as an afterthought, “Except for you, Merlin, but that’s completely different.”

Merlin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile that twitched in the corner of his mouth.

“I love you too,” Gwen’s eyes shone as she gazed deep into Lance’s eyes. “And you too, Merlin,” she added, before kissing Lancelot sweetly on the lips.

“Oh come here!” Merlin said gruffly, getting up and enveloping them both in a hug. The three of them clung together until Lance gently extricated himself and gestured towards the table.

“Champagne anyone?”

Merlin and Gwen readily agreed and Lance immediately began pouring out the champagne as they sat down.

“I would like to propose a toast,” Merlin declared once Lance had finished pouring and they were all sat comfortable around the table. “To my two best friends in all the world, whom I love even though they don’t share my opinion that David Tennant was the best Doctor ever.”

“Tom Baker,” Lance immediately responded.

“Without question,” Gwen agreed.

Merlin rolled his eyes fondly before continuing.

“Anyway, what I want to say is Congratulations! Seriously though, I understand why Lance said that he didn’t know why he’d taken so long to propose. You two are just – there are no two people on earth who are more perfectly suited to one another than you two are. You just – you just fit. It’s – it’s like you are soul mates or something. Like you were destined to be together.”

“Oh Merlin!” Gwen’s voice was full of affection.

“Careful now, you are beginning to sound like old Mr. Kilgharrah,” Lance joked, but it was clear that Merlin’s words had moved him.

“I was there from the moment you two first met, and I knew the moment that Lance laid eyes on Gwen that there was no getting rid of her – ow!” he yelped, grinning cheekily at the mock swat that Gwen had thrown in his direction. “And you know what, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I can only hope that one day I am as lucky in finding the person who fits me in the exact same way.”

“Amen to that,” Lance said solemnly, raising his glass.

“May you find her soon,” Gwen raised her glass as well.

“And one more thing-” Merlin said before they could clink glasses. “I had damn well better be the best man at the wedding!”

“Oh but Merlin, I was so set upon having you as a bridesmaid!” Gwen pouted exaggeratedly, her eyes twinkling.

Merlin laughed.

“Gwen,” he chuckled. “I love you and all that, but there is no one on earth who can get me to wear a dress. Ever.”

“One of these days, Merlin,” Lance grinned. “I am going to remind you that you said that.”

“Never. Happen.” Merlin was confident.

“Are you willing to bet on it?” Lance asked innocently.

Merlin cocked his head.

“Depends,” he replied cautiously. “What are the terms?”

Lance thought for a moment.

“Right,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I, Lancelot Griffinson, hereby bet that you, Merlin Emrys, will wear a dress – that is to say, an item of women’s clothing that falls below the waist - within the next ten years. In other words, by August 2017, exactly ten years from now. The loser will then buy the winner any alcoholic beverage of his choosing for the next year, whenever and wherever he may so choose to consume them.”

“Done!” Merlin agreed and he and Lance shook on it.

Gwen shook her head.

“Oh Merlin,” she said half fond, half exasperated. “You should know better than to make a bet with a lawyer. You never do learn, do you?”

 

**And no, I never really did. Just last week I placed a wager on who could eat the most number of doughnuts in one sitting without falling sick. I, as you can probably guess, was not the victor of that particular occasion.**

**And incidentally, while we are at it, the tenth anniversary of the Dress Bet is coming up soon and I still haven’t worn a dress. I’m even now counting down the days till I get my free drinks.**

 

The rest of the evening was spent in a pleasant haze, with the three of them reminiscing about their days at university and of their best memories since then. Although the vast majority of the stories involved Merlin in one way or another, most of them were completely unremarkable to him – for example, Gwen and Lance both relayed the days when they had first touched, when they had first shared a look, when they had first realised their feelings for each other and so on. Each little thing was so small and insignificant to anyone else – Merlin included, despite having been present at most of these occasions – and yet they meant so much to both Lance and Gwen. They were the silliest little moments – remembering something extremely trivial and unimportant that one of them had said ages ago; randomly finishing each other’s sentences; or, indeed, any of the million things that made the both of them the perfect couple.

Merlin slowly became quieter and quieter as the night progressed, his thoughts turning inward, fuelled by the alcohol. Gwen and Lance were either too wrapped up in each other or were sensitive enough to leave Merlin and his thoughts alone. Either way, Merlin went in for a serious bout of thinking.

This strange mood didn’t seem to leave him all week. Even when his construction plans were praised by his manager and colleagues, his joy was tempered by the odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. He mulled over it and prodded it but he couldn’t seem to figure out what it actually meant.

At first he had thought that it meant that he was jealous of Lancelot – that he had super-secret, repressed and hidden feelings for Gwen that he had never known or realised before. He had turned that thought over carefully before finally rejecting it. No, he determined, he had never really felt that way about Gwen. Any mild attraction to her had been solidly nipped in the bud the moment that he saw the way that she and Lance had looked at each other. That is to say, within the first ten seconds of meeting her.

Merlin, at one point, even went so far as to ponder whether or not he was jealous of Gwen for becoming engaged to Lance. He had quickly and firmly rejected that idea as well. Not only was he fully and completely straight, thank you very much, but Lance was like the brother he never had – there was absolutely no romantic feeling involved there, no matter what anyone said about the two of them being ‘unnaturally close’.

He then finally ended up with the idea that he just didn’t want Gwen and Lance to get married. But even that was wrong – he did want them to get married. He really, truly and honestly did. They deserved it. Did he feel slightly worried that things might change between them and that he would be without a pair of best friends again? Sure, he couldn’t help worrying about that sometimes. But deep in his heart he knew that things wouldn’t change that much – he, Gwen and Lance were friends for life, and nothing could change that, ever. Besides, he thought, Gwen and Lance were practically married already. All they needed was a marriage licence to complete the picture. Also, he knew that Gwen loved him and worried far too much about him to ever really let him alone, and Lance – well, the thought of him and Lance not being friends was inconceivable, and he knew that Lance felt the same. So no, it wasn’t really that he wanted them not to marry, either.

It was only later in the week that he realised what it truly was. It may have taken him long enough, but Merlin was a very oblivious boy at times.

“I’ve got it!” he announced as he made his way over the booth of The Great Dragon where both Gwen and Lance were already seated and nibbling at a plate of chips along with their drinks. “I know what it is that I was feeling!”

“Er,” Gwen frowned. “Congratulations?”

“Shall we buy you a cake?” Lance grinned.

“Ha ha,” Merlin said dryly. “Thanks a lot. You two may not know it, but I actually had a really important idea just now. A revelation. An epiphany. Something life-changing!”

“…And?” Lance prompted after a moment of silent expectation.

“And,” Merlin opened his arms out wide. “I realised that I was – wait for it – _jealous_.”

Gwen and Lance blinked. Then, as one, they turned to each other.

“I was worried that this might happen,” Lance muttered under his breath.

“I really didn’t think that-” Gwen bit her lip. “Are we actually sure that-”

“I can’t think of any other explanation,” Lance muttered back under his breath. They then nodded at each other in perfect unison before turning back to Merlin.

“Right,” Lance started, trying to put on a business-like front despite the fact that his tension clearly shone through. “I was afraid of this. I had hoped that it was all in my imagination, but clearly …” he sighed before steeling himself once more. A brief glance in Gwen’s direction caused her to suddenly rise and mumble and excuse before leaving the table. Feeling slightly more at ease, Lance returned to the matter at hand. He looked up and held Merlin’s gaze, his face serious. “Merlin, you are my best friend. Ever. You know that right?”

“…Right,” Merlin agreed after a moment, looking confused.

“And you know that I would do anything for you, right?”

“Right,” Merlin agreed again, not at all sure where this was going.

“That’s why I want you to know that what I am about to say now is not designed to hurt you. Gwen and I love you no matter what. We don’t blame you at all for anything that you feel, do you understand?”

“…Okay?” Merlin was starting to feel seriously alarmed right now.

“Good,” Lance looked relieved before her started up again. “Now we both know that Gwen is a wonderful and attractive woman …”

“Er – yeah …” Merlin said uneasily.

“And so I want to let you know that you have nothing to be ashamed of. Your feelings are perfectly natural.”

“Yeah, I know,” Merlin agreed before snapping his mouth shut and frowning. “Wait – what?!”

“And I want you to know,” Lance carried on determinedly. “That if I was certain that she felt the same way about you, then I would willingly step aside so that you and she might-”

“Whoa!!” Merlin almost shouted, alarmed. “Whoa! What the hell are you talking about! I don’t have feelings for _Gwen_!”

“Merlin,” Lance was looking fixedly at a spot on the table, his face set. “You don’t have to pretend for me. You just admitted that you were jealous. I know you are worried about what Gwen and I might think-”

“What?! No, no, _no_! No! Lance, you utter pillock, _I am not in love with Gwen_!!”

“You’re not?” Lance’s face scrunched up. He frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes I – of _course_ I’m sure!” Merlin snapped, mortified. “I’ve _never_ been in love with Gwen! I love her, sure – but as a _sister_ or something. Christ, why the hell would you go and think that I was in love with her?!”

“You said that you were jealous!” Lance said sheepishly, his face going red.

Merlin rolled his eyes.

“Call Gwen back here,” he groaned. “We’d better reassure her that I haven’t been wasting away, pining for her in the shadows. Honestly! I can’t believe you actually thought that! How long have you been thinking that for?!”

Lance muttered something incomprehensible under his breath just as Gwen came over and sat down next to him, her eyes curious and slightly worried.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Merlin said firmly, glaring at the two people sitting opposite him. “I am not, nor have I ever been, in love with Gwen. Got that? Never. Lovely as you are, and all that Gwen.”

Gwen smiled at him.

“I didn’t think that you were,” she said with a small laugh. “But you know what he’s like,” she nudged Lance with her arm causing him to mumble something self-pitying under his breath. “I’m glad we got that cleared up though.”

“So why did you say that you were jealous?” Lance questioned, peeking up from behind his pint.

Merlin bit his lip, hesitating.

“Go on,” Gwen said encouragingly.

Merlin nodded.

“I want what you have,” he said in a rush, hurrying on before the others could speak. “You two – you two are so perfect for each other! You get each other! You just fit! Any idiot could see that you two were made for each other – that you two are soul-mates! And I can see you – years from now – sat together all old and wrinkly, surrounded by doting grandkids and I-” Merlin swallowed before forcing himself to continue. “I want that. I want to find someone who gets me like you two get each other, and who loves me in spite of everything. I – I want to find The One.”

There was a pause. Lance opened his mouth, only for Merlin to interrupt him.

“And I don’t mean Neo, Lance,” he said dryly, before considering. “Though it would be pretty cool to find him …”

“I suppose Buffy is out, as well,” Lance said mock-gloomily, his mouth twitching.

“And that Jet Li film as well,” Merlin nodded.

They were cut off by Gwen, who seemed to have serious trouble trying to contain her excitement.

“Guys,” she said as calmly as she could while having hearts in her eyes. “Guys, much as I love discussing _The Matrix_ , and _Buffy_ and random Jet Li movies, can you stop being such men about this and get back to the point?” Her defenses suddenly let down and the excitement came rushing in. “Merlin!” she practically squealed. “I can’t believe it! You want to find love! You’ve had enough of fooling around and you finally want to settle down!”

“What do you mean ‘finally’?” Merlin said in mock offence. “I’m only twenty five!”

“Merlin!” Gwen ignored him. “You are finally growing up!” She beamed at him. “This is the best news I have heard in a long time!”

Lance cleared his throat.

“The best news since this morning when my wonderful boyfriend proposed to me,” Gwen quickly amended.

Lance smiled at her.

“And now I am your wonderful _fiancé_ ,” he murmured, leaning towards her.

“And I am _your_ wonderful fiancée,” Gwen murmured back, and then they were kissing.

Merlin rolled his eyes.

“This is all your fault, you know,” he grumbled. “I’m sure normal twenty-five year olds don’t want to settle down so quickly. They are too busy partying and having sex with random strangers to want to get married and have loads of kids. But I get you two, who are all in love and perfect and everything, and you influence me with your evil lovey-dovey and domestic vibes!” He frowned as neither Gwen nor Lance heard a word that he said, too busy kissing to notice him. “You just wait,” he threatened. “You wait till I find the perfect girl of my dreams and then you’ll finally see what it’s like to see two dopey love-struck people exchange saliva all day long in front of your faces!”

Neither Gwen nor Lance looked very alarmed at this threat. Either they hadn’t heard him, or Merlin just wasn’t all that threatening. Or it could be a combination of the two. Yes, that was probably it.

“So when are you going to start?” Lance asked, finally extricating himself from the death-grip he and Gwen had on each other.

Merlin looked surprised.

“Well I will have to get a girlfriend first!” he said slowly, his tone patronising. “I can’t exactly disgust you with the over-indulgence of saliva-swapping when I don’t have anyone to swap saliva _with_.”

“Not _that_ , stupid!” Gwen groaned, stifling a laugh. “He meant when you are going to start looking for your soul-mate!”

“Oh,” Merlin said quickly. “Right. Obviously. Well – straight away, I suppose. I’ll start the search right here, at the pub. I don’t think there’s any point waiting, do you? Things like this take time, after all. I mean, it’s not as if I’m going to meet the perfect woman any time soon, am I?”

 

**Actually, I would. You may all laugh, but Old Kilgharrah had a point about Destiny being in play in the world. Because just a few weeks after I said this, I happened to meet the most perfect woman that I had ever known – and, quite possibly - ever will know. A person who, apart from Gwen, would become the most important woman in my whole life. To some of you, she is the scariest woman that you will ever meet, but to me, she is just one of my best friends in the whole wide world: Morgana.**

**  
**

**  
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**HOW MERLIN MET MORGANA(AND PROMPTLY FELL IN LOVE WITH HER)**

**  
**

_October 31, 2007_

Merlin sat on a chair in the corner of the room with a scowl on his face, watching without any hint of amusement whatsoever as Gwen and Lance, dressed in coordinated Prince and Princess costumes, traded deep and invasive kisses right in front of his nose. Something that they had been doing all evening, incidentally, despite the fact that they were in public – at a Halloween party to be precise - surrounded by dozens of their be-costumed friends and colleagues.

They were being ridiculously antisocial, Merlin grumbled to himself as he watched them kiss, unmindful of the fact that he was hiding away in a corner right with them. He had not yet been able to make good on his threat of returning the favour of providing a tonsil exhibition – not that he hadn’t tried. Over the past month or so he had been very busy “putting himself out there”, as Gwen called it, or “going a-wooing” as Lance suggested, with an entirely straight face. Though as Lance was the one now dressed as a ghost, _he_ was the one most likely to go “a-wooing”, Merlin snickered to himself, before glaring at the electric blue coloured alcoholic drink in his hand and then pushing it away.

Merlin had had some success in the romance department, of course – he was quite attractive, after all, and he was a nice, smart and funny architect – what wasn’t attractive about that?! Apparently a lot, as the very first girl he had approached in his Quest for True Love turned him down gently, saying that “he talked about buildings too much”. To be fair, Merlin hadn’t chosen her to talk to first for her astounding potential-wife vibe, but rather for the fact that she had an impressive rack. A very impressive rack, Merlin amended when he had reported back and had been met with Gwen’s stern face.

He had since been on many dates and while most of them had been good, none of them made him feel … well, _feel_. He had liked them well enough, and he had found them attractive, pleasant and intelligent, and he did indeed remain casual friends with some of them, but it was clear to him that none of the women that he had met so far were in the running to be his future wife. None of them had made him feel like there were stars and fireworks bouncing around in his stomach, or like he had been struck by lightning. None of them seemed like someone that he would be entirely content spending the rest of his life with, that he would marry. None of them made his heart speed up and his mouth go dry as an instant connection formed between them from the moment that their eyes met across the room.

None of those women made him feel anything like what he was now feeling on catching the eye of the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen across the room of the party.

She was tall and slender, but was graced by curves in _all_ of the right places – something that her slinky white dress showed off admirably, though it made her already pale skin seem even whiter. In contrast, her hair was a rich black and it was set off nicely by a golden circlet around her head. Merlin had no idea who she was supposed to be dressed as but he found that he couldn’t really bring himself to care –the character in question was obviously someone incredibly sexy and the woman he was looking at was definitely doing her full justice. He swallowed when the woman tilted her head slightly in subtle invitation for him to join her.

“I’ll be back in a moment, yeah?” he distractedly directed his words at Gwen and Lance though he very much doubted that they had heard, or that they would even notice his disappearance any time soon. He got up and, nervously straightening his clothes, made his way across the room towards the woman of his dreams.

“Hi,” she smiled at him when he reached her.

“Hi,” Merlin replied, hoping that he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt.

“Nice costume,” she smiled, taking in his appearance. “I’m surprised there aren’t more Doctor Who’s around here.”

“Well, I’ve seen a couple of Fours and Nines around,” Merlin ran a hand through his hair rather sheepishly.

“Well I’ve personally always liked Ten best,” the woman smiled confidingly at Merlin, her eyes sparkling as she once again drew them over Merlin’s brown suit and long coat.

“Me too!” Merlin exclaimed, before gesturing at his costume and adding a wry, “As you probably already know.”

The woman laughed, a lovely sound that made Merlin feel quite light-headed.

“I’m Morgana,” she revealed, holding her hand out. “Morgana Fay.”

“Merlin,” Merlin replied, feeling inexpressibly happy, and trying to prevent himself from exclaiming how lovely and soft her skin was as he took her hand. “Merlin Emrys. And – sorry, but I can’t figure it out – can I ask what your costume is?”

“Certainly,” Morgana said coolly, though her lip twitched and her eye sparkled. Her eyes really were a bewitching green. “I’m Cassandra. The Seer.”

“Oh,” Merlin said, feeling slightly at loss. “Oh that’s – that’s nice.”

Morgana laughed at that.

“At least,” she grinned, “that’s what I tell people. Really I just liked the costume and wanted an excuse to wear it. No one can question it as no one knows what Cassandra used to wear.”

Merlin had to laugh at that.

“And here I thought that it was the character dictating the costume, and not the costume dictating the character!” he laughed.

“Well I wasn’t about to go and come in something like that!” Morgana jerked her thumb over her shoulder, towards someone who was dressed as a large purple teletubby.

Merlin glanced over and then shuddered.

“I know that this is supposed to be a Halloween party,” he joked, while casting a wary look at the giant Tinky Winky. “But I don’t think that the costumes are honestly supposed to be scary!”

“Oh, it’s not a Halloween party,” Morgana said, her tone one of confidence.

Merlin frowned.

“It’s not?” he asked blankly. He looked down at his Doctor Who costume, momentarily befuddled.

“No,” Morgana shook her head. “It’s a _Samhain_ party,” she said, nodding knowledgeably, her eyes glinting.

Merlin’s brow furrowed and he crooked his head.

“There’s a difference?” he asked, puzzled.

“Yup,” Morgana said seriously. “Halloween parties are all pretentious and _American_ ,” she explained. “Samhain parties, on the other hand, are completely legit.”

“And unpretentious,” Merlin nodded.

“And unpretentious,” Morgana agreed.

“Well,” Merlin said after a moment. “Forridel always did have a fondness for Druids.”

“Did you hear that she’s dating a druid right now?” Morgana smirked. “A guy named Alvarr?”

“No I didn’t!” Merlin laughed. “I wonder how long that’s going to last!”

 

**As you all probably know, Alvarr is now Forridel’s husband. Which shows how much I know. Well, I say husband - she says life-partner. Which is probably more appropriate as I’m not quite sure if the government regards druidic hand-fasting ceremonies as proper legal marriages …**

**And no, Forridel, for the hundredth time, I will _not_ change my wedding service to a hand-fasting ceremony. I don’t care if Alvarr is now a certified Priest of the Old Religion. It’s not happening. End of.**

**  
**

“Not that I blame her,” Morgana said casually. “He is quite good-looking. If you like the whole tall, dark and handsome thing … which I do.” Her eyes raked Merlin’s form, causing goose bumps to spring up wherever her gaze landed.

“I suppose two out of three isn’t bad,” Merlin smiled weakly.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Morgana inched closer to him, lifting a perfect pale finger to run against his cheek, the bright red nail polish startling against both of their skins. “You’re really very handsome.”

“I was talking about the ‘dark’ bit,” Merlin joked.

That surprised a laugh out of Morgana, whose sultry look disappeared for a moment to be replaced with pure childish enjoyment. She paused, lowering her hand from Merlin’s face and just looking at him in earnest. Merlin felt a slight flush rise in his cheeks in the face of her intense stare.

“I like you,” she said suddenly, startling them both. Then she smiled and her face looked strangely sweet. “I like you!” she repeated.

Merlin felt his heart swell.

“I like you too,” he croaked.

“Good!” Morgana smiled at him before her eyes gleamed with mischief. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Absolutely!” Merlin breathed, before a little sense returned to his head. “But I need to say goodbye to my friends first, so they don’t start wondering where I’ve got to.”

“Okay,” Morgana shrugged an elegant shoulder. “I have to grab my bag anyway. You go ahead, I will find you.”

Merlin nodded but moved away slowly, reluctant to leave her side in case she suddenly changed her mind and he never saw her again. He watched her head off through the crowd before shaking himself and making his way over to Gwen and Lance.

“There you are!” Gwen exclaimed. “We were wondering where you were!”

“Yeah,” Merlin said quickly, waving off the fact that it was their fault that they hadn’t listened to him. “About that – I met someone.”

“Really?” Lance looked astonished. Merlin was too excited to feel affronted at that.

“Yeah,” he said, a slightly besotted expression coming over his face. Gwen and Lance shared a look. “And guys – she’s perfect. This is – I think … guys, I think that this might be Her.”

Lance and Gwen exchanged another look.

“Well in that case,” Lance said slowly. “Go and get her. You deserve this, Merlin.”

“Don’t sleep with her, though!” Gwen suddenly blurted, turning red as both men looked at her. “What I mean is, if this is it – if it is Her, then you don’t want this to just be some sordid one night stand. You want it to be fun and romantic, and the start of something special.”

“Court her, Merlin,” Lance agreed, sounding completely earnest. “Woo her. Romance is the food of love.”

“I thought that was music?” Merlin said doubtfully.

“Well we don’t want you to sing to her!” Lancelot said immediately, as if wary that Merlin might decide to burst into song then and there. “You’re my best friend, Merlin, but I have to say that you can’t hold a tune to save your life!”

“So karaoke bars are out then,” Merlin joked, trying to hide the nervous tremor running through him.

Gwen, however, being far too observant for her own good, seemed to notice it and she smiled benevolently.

“Don’t worry, Merlin,” she said kindly. “Just be yourself – I’m sure you will be fine. She’s leaving with you, isn’t she? She must like you, then.”

“I don’t know,” Merlin fidgeted before sighing. “It’s just – she’s amazing, Gwen. She’s seems really smart and funny, and dear god, she is beautiful. I mean – she’s completely out of my league!”

“Don’t knock yourself!” Lance gently nudged him with his arm. “You’re a good guy, Merlin. I’m sure she would be lucky to have you.”

“He’s right,” Gwen nodded sincerely. “You are sweet and handsome and an architect. You have nothing to worry about! Surely she can’t be so completely out of your – oh!” Gwen’s eyes suddenly widened.

Merlin turned around to see Morgana behind him.

“Ready to go?” she asked with a small smile.

“Yeah,” Merlin said, his throat dry. Gwen made a tiny noise in her throat and he shook himself. “Er – Morgana, these are my two best friends in all the world, Guinevere Smith and Lancelot Griffinson – Gwen and Lance for short. You two, this is Morgana.” Both Gwen and Lance heard the “my possible future wife” at the end of that sentence.

“Morgana Fay,” Morgana said with a smile, holding a hand out to Gwen, who seized it enthusiastically.

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Gwen gushed, her eyes alight. Merlin knew that she was picturing the four of them as old pensioners, sat around playing bridge (obviously they had all learned to play bridge sometime between now and then. Maybe Morgana knew how to play and had taught them. He would have to ask her sometime if she knew how).

Lance was a good deal more relaxed and restrained in his greeting, and Morgana seemed to be put at ease by his manner, even though at no time had she showed anything but perfect composure.

“Shall we leave?” Merlin asked her.

“Yes,” Morgana replied with a smile. They then both said their goodbyes to Gwen and Lance, Merlin hurriedly engaging Morgana in conversation so that she didn’t turn around and see Gwen sending him mouthed words of encouragement and big thumbs up.

“They seem nice,” Morgana said as they walked out onto the street together.

Merlin laughed.

“’Nice’ is the perfect word to describe them,” he chuckled. “They are two of the nicest, sweetest, loveliest people on the planet. But don’t be fooled – Gwen has the mind of a devil and Lance has seen and done a lot more than he lets on. You don’t want to get on their wrong side, believe me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Morgana laughed. She then fell back into silence, chewing her lip thoughtfully. “I think,” she said at last, slightly hesitantly. “I think that your friend – Gwen – I think that she might have – maybe – recognised me.”

Merlin frowned.

“Recognised you?” he repeated, slowing down his footsteps. “You mean you two have met before?”

“Oh no!” Morgana said hurriedly. “No, I don’t know her.” She shook her head. “It’s nothing, forget about it.”

Merlin glanced at her, and deciding that he preferred Morgana to be smiling rather than pensive, agreeably dropped the subject.

“Do you want to go anywhere in particular?” he asked, as they started walking in a random direction.

Morgana bit her lip and cast a careful glance at Merlin.

“A walk – just like this – would be nice,” she said tentatively.

Merlin smiled at her.

“A walk would be perfect,” he said sincerely, and Morgana’s expression immediately cleared up. To tell the truth, Merlin was rather relieved as well. He had half expected her to invite him back to her place, and if she did so then Merlin would have found it very hard to adhere to Lance and Gwen’s advice to not sleep with her. Not that there wasn’t potential for that at the end of the night. And not that he was expecting it or anything. But a short gentle stroll through the streets was nice and romantic – and that was what Merlin had wanted all along. It was good to see that Morgana was on the same page as well.

They strolled about for a while, talking and laughing comfortably. Every now and then, the architect in Merlin couldn’t resist pointing out particularly beautiful or singular buildings, and while being on a London street meant that there were many of those, Morgana seemed genuinely interested and listened to Merlin wax lyrical with great patience. As they walked, Merlin found himself telling Morgana more and more about himself - from his friends, to where he worked, to where he hung out (which these days was pretty much solely at The Great Dragon) – which led to Morgana expressing her curiosity to see this famous pub with its cryptic landlord for herself.

Merlin had immediately taken her there and had introduced her to John Kilgharrah, who had looked Merlin straight in the eye and told him that _she_ was not the correct side of the coin. Merlin had gone red and muttered some vague, made-up explanation to Morgana about the meaning. Kilgharrah had then turned to Morgana and stared at her before loudly proclaiming that she had the gift of ‘sight beyond sight’. Morgana had been thrilled. Merlin had just snorted and told Kilgharrah that he had been watching too much _Thundercats_. To which Kilgharrah had given him a knowing look before walking away in order to serve – and prophesize about – other customers.

For the next hour or so, Merlin and Morgana talked and joked together, finding that they both had a surprisingly similar sense of humour. While Morgana was rather reserved about her own personal life, Merlin was far from shy about his own background, and so he spent the rest of the evening entertaining Morgana with stories about his childhood and his friends, and with various little anecdotes that he thought she might find amusing - most of which, it must be said, included Lance.

“You didn’t!” she gasped, half laughing, half-incredulous, as Merlin told her the story of how he and Lance had entered a burger eating contest at university in their first year. Merlin hadn’t wanted to, especially as he’d had a horrible hangover that morning, but Lance had pleaded with him to join him and so Merlin had found himself forcing burger after burger down his throat, the sole slender figure in a line of large, strong-stomached men. Of course, their stomachs hadn’t proved to be that strong when Merlin, his stomach staging a rebellion, had thrown up violently whilst on his fourth burger. This had created something of a domino effect in which all the other contestants had proceeded to follow him – and some of the audience members too, if Merlin remembered correctly. It gone down as one of the Student Union’s biggest catastrophes and to Merlin’s knowledge, no eating competition had ever been staged there since.

“I did!” Merlin laughed. “It was pretty horrible! The whole stage was a mess! It was disgusting. But – you know what the funniest thing was? Lance never stopped eating! He just sat there calmly eating his burger as the ten other people next to him just vomited up their guts!”

“No!” Morgana laughed.

“Yes!” Merlin continued. “I’m telling you, you should never come between Lance and his food! He won, of course – the prize was three months of free meals at the local burger restaurant. Though to be fair, I doubt that anyone else would have wanted to look at another burger in their life after that! You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if he purposely got me drunk the night before in hopes that this would happen so that he could win, the sneaky bastard!”

“I don’t believe it!” Morgana gasped with laughter. “He seemed so nice when I talked to him - _and_ from what you have told me! Surely he wouldn’t have done something like that!”

“You severely underestimate him!” Merlin grinned. “He is a lawyer, after all. Being evil is in his blood!”

“It’s good to finally know what you really think of me!” said a voice from behind him, and Merlin turned around to see Lance and Gwen both grinning down at him.

“Oh, you needn’t have waited for that!” Merlin said cheerfully. “You could have just asked me and I would have told you!”

“Boys, boys,” Gwen hushed them in a sing-song voice. She turned to Merlin and Morgana. “May we join you?”

Both Merlin and Morgana readily agreed and Gwen and Lance seated themselves next to them in the booth, so that it was now filled with a Prince, a Princess, a Seer and a Time Lord. Merlin was reasonably smug that the Doctor would win that showdown. Though, he amended, eyeing Morgana’s dress, even the Doctor was fallible when it came to a pretty face. And Morgana was more than pretty. He quickly pulled his eyes away, and tried to concentrate on what the others were saying.

“How was the party after we left?” Morgana was asking Gwen and Lance.

“It was fine,” Lance said with a smile. “But things deteriorated after a while, so we decided to leave.”

“I’m surprised you even noticed, what with your faces being practically attached during the whole time that I was there!” Merlin remarked with a huff.

Gwen pleasantly flipped him a middle finger, before smiling at Morgana.

“So how was your evening?” she asked, ignoring the death glare that Merlin sent from behind Morgana’s back.

“It was good,” Morgana said, turning to smile at Merlin, who quickly rearranged his face to reflect a more benevolent expression. “Merlin’s been telling me all about you two!”

“Nothing too embarrassing, I hope?” Lance asked quickly, giving a forced chuckle and turning slightly red.

Merlin cackled and Lance turned even redder.

“Well, I now have it on good authority that you have a very strong stomach when it comes to hamburgers,” Morgana said with a smile.

Lance let out a groan.

“Why, Merlin, why?” he moaned half-theatrically, half truly mortified.

“Yes, Merlin,” Gwen was glaring at him with a pointed look in her eyes. “Why would you tell Morgana a story about how you threw up in public after an alcoholic binge and thus caused a mass vomit-fest?”

Merlin froze. Hearing it said like that made all the difference. Suddenly, telling a gorgeous and sophisticated woman the story of how he had caused almost a dozen other people to throw up didn’t seem like such a good idea after all.

But Morgana was laughing.

“It’s okay,” she chuckled. “We’ve all done things in the past that we regret. Granted, yours are very unusual things,” she said, nudging Merlin in the shoulder.

“Oh?” Gwen sat up. “And what sort of things have you done?” she asked sweetly.

Morgana blinked, looking startled at this question.

“Oh, you know,” she said as casually as she could, but there was a tension in her jaw. “Just stuff.”

“Stuff?” Gwen asked curiously, before smiling her super special smile that usually allowed her to get away with anything. “Any big bad secrets that we should know about?”

Morgana stiffened at that and she looked at Gwen almost fearfully.

“No,” she said, her eyes coming to rest on her now empty beer glass. “Nothing. I’m going up for another beer, anyone want one?”

Everyone accepted and Morgana got up and walked stiffly over to the bar. The moment she was gone, Merlin rounded fiercely on Gwen.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he hissed. “Stop interrogating her!”

“I’m only trying to find out more about her!” Gwen pouted. “It’s obvious that you really like her, Merlin. I’m not going to allow your future wife to be someone who is hiding a deep dark past, and it’s obvious that she is hiding something! You can’t just ignore it because she’s stunning!”

“I don’t care!” Merlin glared at her. “If she wants to, then let her share it in her own time. You’re scaring her off! She’s already out of my league, I don’t want her to have another excuse to leave!”

Gwen looked a little shame-faced at that.

“Sorry,” she said apologetically. “I guess I got carried away. I won’t question her any more, I promise.”

Merlin nodded and gave her a small smile just as Morgana returned with the drinks.

“Did old Kilgharrah say anything to you?” Lance asked as he sipped his beer.

“Oh, yes!” Morgana brightened up. “He told me that I was diverting the course of destiny. And that I was a witch!” she paused and frowned. “Actually, I don’t think that he likes me very much.”

“I don’t think that he likes anyone very much,” Lance comforted her, before pausing. “Except Merlin. He seems to really like Merlin, for some reason.”

“Must be my overpowering charm,” Merlin said with a grin.

“Yes, must be,” Lance said dryly.

“What else did Kilgharrah say?” Gwen asked Morgana.

“That’s about it,” Morgana said with a shrug. “Though he did say something earlier about me having sight beyond sight …”

Lance looked up in surprise before turning to Merlin with glee.

“I didn’t know Kilgharrah was a _Thundercats_ fan!”

“Neither did I,” Merlin said with a laugh. “Makes you wonder where all his other gibberish comes from, doesn’t it?”

“You don’t get good children’s TV anymore,” Gwen said with a sigh, turning to Morgana. “Don’t you think so?”

Morgana’s back went rigid.

“I wouldn’t know,” she said cautiously, displaying a great lack of interest in the subject at hand.

“Think about it though,” Gwen continued, oblivious to Morgana’s sudden frostiness. “Back in the day we had great cartoons and children’s programmes, and Saturday morning television! And what have you got now? Nothing, that’s what! You have ludicrously named characters with adults inside giant blobby suits that are more likely to give child nightmares than entertain them! I’m a teacher at a primary school, and I can’t tell you how many children I’ve had to comfort after their parents traumatised them by making them sit down and watch some nonsense like Boohbah or that ‘Igglepiggle’ creature.”

Gwen, Lance and Merlin simultaneously shuddered.

“And don’t even get me started on the presenters!” Gwen said with a roll of her eyes. “They are just as-”

“Okay, fine!” Morgana suddenly snapped. “You win. You can stop your subtle hints and jabs now! I get it! You think that I don’t know already?”

Lance, Merlin and Gwen all stared at her.

“Er – know what exactly?” Merlin asked her hesitantly.

“How rubbish and humiliating it all was!” Morgana snapped at him.

The other three shared a blank look.

“All _what_ was?” Lance asked with a concerned frown.

“Ask her!” Morgana jerked her head towards Gwen with a scowl.

“Me?!” Gwen stared at her in surprise. “How do I know?!”

Morgana let out a harsh bark of laughter.

“Oh don’t try that on with me!” she said with a glare. “You know perfectly well what I am talking about! You’ve only been full of hints and accusations all night!”

Gwen looked completely at loss.

“Morgana,” she said, her voice sincere. “I have to say that I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”

Morgana looked as if she was going to give another unladylike snort but then she looked at Gwen and her expression faltered.

“Does that – do you mean to say that you really don’t know?” she asked, hesitant.

“Know _what_?” Merlin asked, slightly impatiently.

Gwen shook her head helplessly.

Morgana sighed and lowered her head.

“Well I guess I’ve come this far,” she said with a sigh. She looked up at the others meekly, a vulnerable expression on her face. “Just – don’t think any less of me for this, will you?”

Merlin, Gwen and Lance looked at each other, intrigued.

Morgana took a deep breath.

“I come from a very well-off family,” she said at last. “And it has always been my dream to be on television. My family never really supported this, so I waited until I had finished university to actually try and get a job in broadcasting. I tried for a very long time, but without any success. I mostly got work as an extra or behind the scenes, which wasn’t what I wanted.” She took another deep breath. “A couple of years ago, I got a job offer. It – it wasn’t at all what I was looking for, and it went against everything that I had ever believed in or felt, but I was pretty desperate. I was willing to do anything. I needed to get my name out there somehow, and to do it by any means necessary.”

The others were casting her some dodgy glances.

“You can’t mean …” Lance said in a hushed voice.

“You didn’t-” Gwen said hesitantly. “I mean, you aren’t talking about – you wouldn’t have-”

“I’m afraid so,” Morgana winced. “I – I accepted a job as a children’s TV presenter on a cable TV channel in Wales and stayed there for a whole year before my dignity reasserted itself and I quit.”

There was silence.

“Oh Morgana,” Merlin said sadly. Then, reviewing what he’d learned about Morgana – fastidious, no-nonsense, something of a perfectionist and with a (briefly restrained) ability to terrify - in the short time that he had known her, he added jokingly, “Poor kids!”

Gwen was having a similarly hard time processing this news.

“That’s-” she shook her head, at loss at what to say. “That’s … now I understand why you didn’t want to tell us.”

They all murmured their agreement. Only Lance remained silent. Everyone turned to look at him to see what his reaction would be.

Seeing everyone look at him, he shrugged.

“Personally I don’t see what is so wrong with it,” he said. “I actually thought that she was doing porn.” He shrugged apologetically when both Gwen and Merlin glared at him. “Sorry!” he told Morgana.

“That’s okay,” Morgana said with a small smile. “I’m not sure that I wouldn’t have preferred that – at least then I wouldn’t have had to work with those hideous glove puppets - and even worse, the children!”

“Don’t you like children?” Gwen asked, her eyes flicking to Merlin.

Morgana shuddered.

“Urgh, no,” she shook her head firmly. “I hate them. That’s why I hated the job so much. I couldn’t get rid of the little brats.”

Merlin felt something inside of him sink but he firmly pushed it aside. It was only a small thing, he reasoned. And it wasn’t as if people didn’t change their minds. And why was he even thinking about this when he and Morgana had only just met? He tried to put it out of his mind.

Morgana told them a little more about her life as a children’s TV presenter and how even now she was sometimes ambushed by harried mothers and their screaming children and made to pretend that she actually enjoyed talking to them when all she wanted to do was partition that part of her life away and never think about it again. She then turned to Gwen and frowned.

“So if you really didn’t know,” she said slowly. “Then why were you asking me all of those questions?”

Gwen froze and her eyes darted to Merlin guiltily before moving back to Morgana.

“Oh, no reason,” she said lightly, avoiding Morgana’s narrowed eyes. “Just curiosity, I guess. I wanted to know more about you. I’m like that with everyone, really.”

“She is!” Merlin quickly agreed. “The first time we met she got my entire life-story out of me within half an hour!”

“Hmm,” Morgana didn’t look quite convinced but she let the matter die.

The evening mellowed after that and everyone relaxed. Though she was slightly wary of her at first, Morgana soon realised that Gwen was actually quite lovely (something that most people usually discovered within the first ten minutes of meeting her) and their talk became more animated and friendly, for which Merlin was glad. He really did like Morgana and if he was to see a future with her, then she would have to get on well with his friends. He had had girlfriends in the past who hadn’t got on with Gwen and Lance and those relationships hadn’t worked out well at all. Luckily, this didn’t seem to be the case here.

“So you live in London, then?” Gwen asked Morgana eagerly.

“Yes!” Morgana smiled. “I actually only just moved here from Surrey a few weeks ago. It’s great to finally be able to call myself a proper Londoner.”

Gwen, Lance and Merlin all shared a look. Morgana caught it.

“What? _What_?” she demanded.

“Well …” Merlin shifted uneasily. He looked pleadingly at Gwen, who rolled her eyes.

“What he means to say is this: do you work in London?” she asked Morgana bluntly.

Morgana frowned at the question but she replied anyway.

“Well – no. Not just yet. But I am looking for one.”

“Do you take the tube?” Lance asked her next.

Morgana wrinkled her nose.

“No, of course not!” she scoffed.

Merlin, Gwen and Lance all shared a look.

“Do you have to deal with the congestion charge?” Merlin then asked.

Morgana fidgeted.

“Well, all the places I’m looking at all have headquarters on the outskirts of London …” she said reluctantly.

“And how long did you say that you have lived in London?” Gwen asked with her arms folded, her tone ever so slightly smug.

Morgana scowled.

“A few weeks,” she mumbled.

“Which proves my point!” Gwen said triumphantly. “There’s no way that you are a proper Londoner!”

“Oh and I suppose you three are?” Morgana challenged.

“Well, we’ve lived here for years …” Gwen started.

“Some of us for all of our lives,” Merlin continued.

“We work in London …” Lance added.

“We take the tube …”

“We get whacked over the head by the congestion charge …”

“And we complain about it!”

“We don’t smile at anyone while we’re there …”

“Okay, okay!” Morgana tried to sound annoyed but the laughter bubbled up out of her. “Fine. I’m not a proper Londoner,” she narrowed her eyes. “Yet. But rest assured – one of these days you will concede that I am a proper Londoner. I guarantee it!”

 

**In case anyone is interested – and I’m sure that you all are – you should probably know that it’s been almost ten years since that day and Morgana still hasn’t achieved her goal. I’m sure you are all of you very surprised.**

**Don’t worry, Morgs, there’s always the next decade.**

 

Kilgharrah finally called for last orders and so the four of them decided to end the night. Lance casually mentioned that he was going to stay at Gwen’s for the night, and he gave Merlin a meaningful look, as if to say ‘just in case’. He and Gwen then said goodbye, leaving Merlin and Morgana alone once again. They suddenly felt awkward for some reason and started to fidget, avoiding each other’s gaze.

“So …” Morgana started, before trailing off.

“So …” Merlin repeated, wondering desperately what would be the right thing to say. They’d already swapped phone numbers, so that was a good thing. However he didn’t want his night with Morgana to be over yet, so he forced himself to screw up his courage. “My flat’s not far from here,” he said timidly. “I – I don’t suppose that you want to come over?”

Morgana bit her lip.

“I don’t know,” she said slightly warily.

“I have lots of cheap beer in the fridge,” Merlin smiled winningly. “Or coffee and tea if you don’t want to drink any more. And I’ve got a whole stash of Doritos somewhere in the kitchen. I think. Unless Lance ate them all, which I must warn you, is a very likely thing.”

Morgana couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well with an offer like that, how could I refuse?” she batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly and took his harm. “Lead on, oh mighty knight!”

Merlin snorted.

“You remember my name right?” he scoffed. “If anything, you ought to say ‘oh mighty sorcerer!’”

“You’re also wearing a Doctor Who costume,” Morgana pointed out dryly. She wrinkled her nose. “‘Oh mighty doctor!’ doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, though.”

“Let’s just say ‘oh mighty Merlin’ then, shall we?” Merlin asked, laughing.

Morgana rolled her eyes in reply but also squeezed his arm, making Merlin feel warm all over. They reached the flat very soon and Merlin invited her in, leading her through to the living room.

“Wow,” Morgana’s eyes widened slightly as she took in the room with a the large flat screen TV, a remote control toy helicopter and the figure of a purple unicorn the size of a large rocking horse sat in the corner. “This really is a bachelor pad isn’t it?”

Merlin grinned at her.

“Coffee? Tea? Or cheap beer?” he offered.

Morgana considered.

“Cheap beer,” she decided. “I’ll probably switch to coffee by the end anyway.”

“Coming right up!” Merlin beamed, going to the kitchen to open the fridge, surreptitiously checking his appearance in the reflection of the steel toaster. After checking his breath and deciding that it was okay, he opened the fridge and grabbed a six pack off the shelf and brought it into the living room, where Morgana was looking at some of the pictures on the shelves.

“You and Lance and Gwen have really been friends for a long time, haven’t you?” she asked, staring at the pictures with something like wistfulness in her voice.

“Ever since our first day at uni,” Merlin shrugged. “It’s not actually that long when you think about it. But it seems like we’ve known each other forever, like since childhood or something. We just sort of – clicked, I guess, right from the start.” He looked up at Morgana from under his eyelashes. “I guess sometimes it’s just as easy as that.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Morgana looked down at her feet before looking up with a determined smile on her face. “So where’s that beer you promised me?”

Merlin immediately passed her a beer and they then moved over to the squashy sofa that, though old and rather battered, held a fond place in Merlin and Lance’s hearts, having seen them through many video game battles, DVD marathons, TV dinners and killer hangovers. Morgana settled down comfortably in it, seeming to fit right in and snuggle down in the sofa’s warm embrace. She cracked open the can of beer and grinned at Merlin before taking a swig – and promptly sputtering at the taste. That didn’t stop her from drinking the rest though.

Merlin sat back and watched her, his eyes fond. The scene filled him with a great sense of domesticity and he couldn’t help but see the future mapped out in front of him: he, Morgana, Gwen and Lance all sat together as old pensioners, while surrounded by a gaggle of grandchildren. This desire only increased as the night went on.

“I actually love action films,” Morgana revealed. “Even the really stupid ones, like the ones with Jason Statham.”

“Hey, don’t knock the Statham-meister!” Merlin pretended to scowl, his lips twitching.

Morgana gave him a look.

“Have you seen ‘Crank’?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Merlin laughed.

“Point taken!” he raised his hands in supplication.

“It’s still not the worst film that I’ve ever seen, though,” Morgana mused. “No, I’d have to give that honour to _Batman and Robin_. Despite the fact that it had George Clooney in it.”

It was Merlin’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“I beg to differ,” he said dryly. “I think it was rubbish precisely because George Clooney was in it.”

Morgana pouted at him.

“And I suppose that Arnie and Batgirl had nothing to do with it whatsoever?”

“They just made a bad film even worse,” he paused, before adding with a nostalgic smile, “though I can’t help but think that Arnie was the best thing about the whole damn film. He made it hilarious!”

“That’s true,” Morgana smiled, before narrowing her eyes playfully. “Though George Clooney’s not half bad, either.”

Merlin rolled his eyes.

“Just because he’s good-looking!” he said, shaking his head.

“Good looking?” Morgana sat up in protest. “He’s _gorgeous_!”

“ _You’re_ gorgeous,” Merlin automatically replied, before suddenly realising what he had said and flushing bright red.

Morgana stared at him.

Merlin, though very red, stared determinedly back.

“You think I’m gorgeous!” Morgana said, her voice half-breathless and half full of an on-coming smirk.

Merlin fidgeted.

“Well …” he mumbled. “It’s true. You know it’s true.”

Morgana’s expression softened and she shuffled a little closer to Merlin.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said softly.

Merlin looked up at her and their eyes met. Morgana smiled but Merlin could see the indecision in her eyes. Throwing caution to the winds, he leaned forwards and brushed his lips against hers. It took a moment for Morgana to respond, but then she sighed and tilted her head and then they were properly kissing.

They pulled apart after a minute and Merlin’s eyes, which had closed, fluttered open.

“Wow,” he breathed with a chuckle. “That was – that was-”

But Morgana didn’t give him time to express what exactly _that_ was. She pushed him back and started to kiss him again, her hands scrabbling at his chest and fluttering down to sneak up under his Doctor Who-esque shirt.

“Mmph!” Merlin’s eyes widened and he blinked as Morgana’s tongue darted inside of his mouth, curling against his tongue. Shaking himself, he came to his senses and gently pushed her back. When she still didn’t move, he pushed her a bit more firmly. “Morgana. _Morgana_.”

Morgana finally pulled back, her lips red and her cheeks flushed and her hair wild around her shoulders. The circlet around her forehead was askew and one strap of her flimsy white dress had fallen down over her shoulder. Merlin swallowed. She made quite a devastating picture, and as Merlin looked at her, he felt him mentally kick himself for what he was about to do.

“Morgana,” he said, wincing when his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I don’t think – this may not be a good idea.”

Morgana stared at him in surprise. Then her face fell.

“Oh god!” she breathed, mortified. “You’re gay, aren’t you? I just sexually assaulted a gay man!”

“What?” Merlin asked, aghast. “No! No! I’m not gay! How can I be gay? I’m the one that kissed you, remember?”

“Oh,” Morgana calmed down. Then she frowned and looked up at him, her eyes hinting at great vulnerability. “Then why did you stop?” Then her eyes widened. “Do you just want to be friends?” Her voice strangely seemed to veer between relief and disappointment.

Merlin started.

“Oh, no!” he quickly shook his head. “I mean – I want to be friends, but – I also want to be more than friends. Christ, Morgana, do I want to be more than friends with you!”

“Okay …” Morgana said slowly, the frown not leaving her face. “Then what’s the problem?”

Merlin sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t just want this to be a one night stand sort of thing,” he finally explained. “I – I want more. I want to take this slowly, I want to get to know you better. That’s what Gwen’s interrogation was all about this evening – she wanted to know if you were the right person for me or not.”

“Right – person?” Morgana faltered slightly at that. “What do you mean?”

Merlin fidgeted nervously before ploughing on, determined.

“What I mean is – I’ve been dating for a long time, but no one has made me feel the way you do.” Morgana sat frozen but Merlin leaned forwards eagerly. “You know what I was saying earlier, about having instant connections?” Morgana nodded. “Well that’s how it was with you – I saw you and I – I instantly knew.”

He watched as Morgana swallowed, her pale throat moving sinuously.

“Knew – knew what, exactly?” she asked, almost fearfully, but Merlin seemed oblivious to this.

“That – that you were the one for me,” Merlin said, and his tone turned soft and affectionate. “I know that it’s stupid and that we only just met each other tonight, but – shouldn’t it be like that? A connection right from the start? I saw you tonight and – and Gwen needn’t have tried questioning you like that, I don’t need to hear any of that. Christ!” Merlin laughed, half in happiness and half in disbelief. “I’m practically in love with you already!”

Morgana’s face shuttered off. She stiffly moved away from Merlin so that they were on the opposite ends of the sofa. Merlin finally seemed to figure out that something was wrong.

“Morgana?” he asked in a small voice.

She didn’t reply.

“Morgana?” he asked again, this time slightly fearfully. He gingerly moved his hand forward, to take hers. Morgana immediately whipped her hand away, as if burned. Merlin stared at her, hurt and confused.

“Oh god,” Morgana whispered, and then even louder, “Oh god. God damn it!” she put her head into her hands and swore under her breath. Merlin cautiously shifted closer but then Morgana suddenly stood up.

“I’m sorry, Merlin.” Her voice was flat. “I can’t do this. I just really, really can’t.”

“Wha- wait, Morgana!” Merlin leapt up from his seat as well. “What do you mean? I thought-”

“You thought wrong!” Morgana said harshly, but then her face crumpled when she saw Merlin’s devastated face. “God, Merlin, you don’t understand! I – I wasn’t looking for this! I don’t think that I even want this! The whole reason that I went to that stupid party today was so that I could just meet some random guy and have a quick shag!”

Merlin’s mouth went dry.

“You – what?” he stammered out.

Morgana groaned.

“I was looking for a one night stand!” she said, her head buried in her hands. “I wasn’t actually supposed to like you!”

“You like me?” Merlin asked, hope reasserting itself.

“Yes. No! I mean – yes, of course I do,” Morgana shook her head distractedly. “At first I just wanted to shag you, but then we started talking and I wanted to be friends with you. And then I met your friends and wanted to be friends with you all. And everything was fine! But then you had to bring me here and be all sweet and charming and tell me that I am gorgeous and screw up the line between friends and – and not-friends!” She gave an almost hysterical laugh. “And just when I think that I am safe to go and sleep with you, you tell me that you are in love with me!”

“ _Practically_ in love with you!” Merlin protested, as if that made things any better.

“As if that makes things any better!” Morgana then said, proving the previous point.

“So – so what are you saying?” Merlin’s throat was dry and his heart was right up in his throat.

Morgana sighed and turned to look at him. When Merlin met her eyes, he saw with a heavy heart that there was only pity in those eyes.

“I’m saying,” Morgana said softly, gently. “That I’m not the girl for you, Merlin. I may not know you that well, but even I can see that what you want is a nice girl to marry and settle down and have children with, and then further along the line, grandchildren. And I – I’m just not that kind of girl. I don’t even think that I want to ever get married. And, well, you’ve heard how I feel about children – I don’t think that my opinion is likely to change any time soon.”

Merlin stared at the floor, his fists clenched as he forced himself to breathe evenly. The voice of old Kilgharrah telling Morgana that she had _sight beyond sight_ floated through his mind and he grimaced.

“So that’s it?” he asked in a small voice. “You’re – we’re not even going to try?”

Morgana looked at him sadly before shaking her head.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she really did look it. “I like you Merlin – I like you a lot. You’re sweet and you’re funny and you’re going to make someone very, very happy. It’s just – that someone isn’t me.”

“But-”

“No, Merlin,” Morgana interrupted him. “The thing is – I’m afraid that if we even tried – if we started dating, then for a while it would be nice and fun, but then later you would start to want things – and that’s not wrong, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t. It’s just that I wouldn’t be able to give you those things and it will have felt like I had led you on, and I really, really don’t want to do that.” She faltered slightly, before adding in a small voice. “I like you too much.”

Merlin stared at her and for a moment he was tempted to be cruel and to tell her to fuck off, but the moment he thought of that, he rejected the idea. He had the same fault – he liked her too much as well.

“Right,” he sighed. “So what do we do now?”

Morgana looked down at her feet and swallowed, as if trying to work up the courage to speak.

“We – we could stay friends?” she asked, and the hopeful note in her voice was almost heartbreaking. Merlin grimaced. Staying friends would in no way make things any easier but –

But Merlin was a bleeding heart and he did so like Morgana and if she stayed then there might be a chance – in the future things could change – they might be able to –

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice hoarse. “Yes, I would like that. So would Lance and Gwen. Friends.”

Morgana gave him a slow, sad look before raising a weak smile.

“It’s for the best,” she said softly, and she hesitated for a moment, before striding forward and pulling Merlin into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated again, and her voice was tremulous.

Merlin sighed and raised an arm and patted her head.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Just – thank you. For being honest, that is.”

Morgana pulled back then and gave him a watery smile.

“Goodbye, Merlin,” she said and kissed him chastely on the cheek.

“Bye,” Merlin managed to croak out. Morgana managed to give him one last smile before she left. “See you-” the door shut. “Around.”

Merlin stared at the door through which she had left. He was still standing there, staring, ten minutes later.

“Fuck,” he said when he finally was able to process what had just happened. “Fuck!” he swore, before turning around and throwing himself down on the sofa, which seemed to comfortingly wrap him in a warm and squashy embrace. Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he shakily reached out and pulled out a beer from what remained of the six-pack. Cracking it open, he took a deep sip.

He then proceeded to sit there alone in the dark, wondering how he had let the woman of his dreams slip away through his fingers. He stayed there, drunk and miserable, till the early hours of the day dawned and the key turned in the lock, signalling the return of Lance to their flat. Taking that as his cue, Merlin immediately slumped into a drunken stupor, his mind clouded and his throat dry as his unhappiness and his sorrow washed over him, enfolding him into a brief and uncomfortable sleep.

 

**“Oh come off it!” Morgana scoffed as there were a few sniffles and coos of sympathy from the audience. “It wasn’t half as dramatic as you made out! You exaggerated the whole incident! And I certainly was not teary-eyed! You, Merlin, may have pined and wasted away after that incident, but I definitely did no such thing!” She tossed her hair proudly and set her steely gaze on Merlin.**

**“Whatever you say, Morgana,” Merlin said lightly, raising a meaningful eyebrow at his audience. “You still didn’t work up the nerve to come and talk to us till at least a week later …”**

**“I was busy!” Morgana snapped, but there was a glimmer in her eye and a softening of her jaw.**

**“Naturally,” Merlin said smoothly before smiling at her fondly. “But one thing I didn’t exaggerate?” His smile became more gentle. “How beautiful you looked that night. And you’re just as gorgeous now.”**

**Morgana smiled back at him, soft and small, and the affection between the two was palpable.**

**A throat was cleared loudly and deliberately from near the kitchen, causing Merlin to start.**

**“I had best get on with it, I think,” he said hurriedly, though his eyes sparkled mischievously. “Now, where was I … Oh yes! I was just about to tell you the story of how I met Arthur.”**

**  
**

**  
**

**HOW MERLIN MET ARTHUR(AND PROMPTLY LABELED HIM A PRAT)**

 

_November 6, 2007_

Merlin was slow to get over the disappointment caused by Morgana’s rejection. The day after the Halloween party, thankfully a Sunday, had been spent with him getting thoroughly drunk, and then following a similar pattern every evening after he got back from work with the added bonus of sympathy and company from his two best friends. However, this Friday Lance and Gwen were out dining with Lance’s parents, and so Merlin had nobody to cheer him up and commiserate with him over the disaster that had been his night with Morgana. Though, truth be told, it would have been unlikely that he would have received any more sympathy anyway, considering that by Wednesday Gwen had started to look the slightest bit impatient whenever Merlin had wailed that he would die old and alone and that he would never find another woman to love again. Lance, being the much better friend in Merlin’s opinion, had given him a sympathetic ear, kept Merlin’s phone out of reach to prevent any unfortunate drunk dialling, and had kept Merlin well supplied with alcohol, much to Gwen’s disapproval. Merlin, enjoying being coddled, had indulged himself in his self-pity.

Now, however, since neither Gwen nor Lance were available that day, Merlin had found himself alone at home and out of beer. So he did the only thing that he could think of, which just happened to be going down to the pub. So he did. The pub, of course, being the Great Dragon.

So here Merlin sat, in his favourite booth at his favourite pub, miserably mulling over his pint and wondering if he should call Morgana _now_ , while at the same time thinking uncharitable thoughts about Gwen and Lance. Stupid Gwen and stupid Lance having a stupid dinner with Lance’s stupid parents (though he quickly revoked the last bit as he actually kind of adored Lance’s fun and laid-back parents). He was still annoyed at everyone else though.

And so, it was while sitting in this state of abject melancholy that he met Arthur.

 

**Oh Arthur. Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. What can I say about Arthur that you don’t already know?**

**Let me start by saying this. My first reaction to seeing Arthur was probably the exact same one that almost every single person in this room had.**

 

 _What an enormous prat!_ Merlin thought with annoyance as the blonde man sat down next to him and threw his arm around Merlin’s shoulders. The man may have been ridiculously good-looking and been dressed in a very expensive three-piece suit which implied great wealth, but that was no reason for him to assume that other people would be glad to have him crash at their table. Especially when said people were in the middle of tragic and very manly sulks, thank you very much.

The man said something but Merlin, who had just been staring in amazement at being ambushed by a complete stranger, hadn’t heard a word. He quickly shook his head, trying to clear it so that he could get some sort of a handle on the situation.

“Right,” Merlin said tiredly, completely bemused. “Who did you say you were again?”

“Pendragon,” the blonde buffoon replied, leaning suggestively closer. Merlin wriggled uncomfortably in his seat. “Arthur Pendragon. But you, gorgeous, can call me Big Pen.”

“Big – _what_?”

Merlin stared at the man, and the man stared back, before he smiled, slowly and suggestively. It actually took Merlin a moment to realise that this guy was hitting on him. When he did, he almost choked on his pint.

“Are you – what are – were you _hitting_ on me?” he sputtered, shoving the man’s arm off him.

“Why?” the man threw him a lazy smile, not at all bothered by the fact that Merlin had shoved him away. “Was it working?”

“Wha- no, it was not working! I’m straight!” Merlin snapped. He couldn’t help but wonder what might have made this idiot think otherwise. As if he hadn’t been miserable and insecure enough already!

The man looked at him in surprise at this revelation.

“Oh,” he said after a moment, his face falling. Then he seemed to perk up again. “My mistake,” he said smoothly. He held out a hand, catching Merlin off guard. “Arthur Pendragon.”

“Merlin Emrys,” Merlin said automatically, holding his hand out in return before he realised what he was doing.

Arthur grinned.

“Well Merlin,” he said smoothly, throwing him a winning smile. “Would you allow me to offer you my congratulations?”

Merlin frowned at him in puzzlement.

“Congratulations?” he asked, almost in spite of himself. “Why would you offer me your congratulations?”

Arthur’s smile widened.

“Because today you moved up in life!” He continued before Merlin could question this. “Today, you met me.”

Merlin’s eyebrows shot up faster than Lance could reach for a pizza slice. And that was fast.

“Er … right,” he said, looking around at the rest of the pub’s patrons and trying to see who the crazy man next to him had come with so that he could go and dump him on them. “And how has my life improved since I met you?”

“Well, it got better looking for a start.” Arthur smirked, crossed his legs and unbuttoned the front of his suit jacket. Merlin eyed him warily in case he was coming on to him again and was almost blinded by the shininess of the man next to him. Everything about Arthur was polished – his teeth, his shoes, his buttons – even his hair gleamed - in spite of the dull lighting of the pub.

The only thing about the man that seemed less than polished was his manners.

“The main reason that this is your lucky day,” Arthur then continued, even as he preened under Merlin’s scrutiny. “Is that you have been chosen from a list of literally hundreds to be the luckiest man in all of England.” He beamed, then grasped Merlin by the shoulders and turned him around in the booth so that he was facing the rest of the pub. “You, dear sir, have been chosen to be my wingman.”

Merlin stared. And stared. And stared some more.

“Er… what?” he finally asked, nonplussed.

“My wingman,” Arthur repeated, a benevolent expression on his face.

“Right,” Merlin said, still at loss. “And – erm – why would I want to be that exactly?”

“That’s not the question you should be asking.”

“It’s not?”

“No,” Arthur replied. “The question you should be asking is why _wouldn’t_ you want to be my wingman?” Merlin just stared at him, but Arthur continued. “This really is a once in a lifetime opportunity, you know. There are dozens – no – hundreds of people who would give their right arm to be in the position you are in now … and a few positions that you aren’t!” He grinned and winked at Merlin again. “You see, being my wingman comes with more than just the benefit of my brilliant and most exhilarating company – though I am sure that that is more than enough for most people! Being my wingman comes with something of even more infinite and precious value.”

“And that is?” Merlin asked, intrigued in spite of himself.

“My wisdom,” Arthur said proudly. “You get the benefit of years and years’ worth of extensive research into the art of seduction.” He turned to Merlin, solemn. “Prepare yourself, my friend. You are about to enter into a lifetime of sexual conquest like you have never known before.”

There was a pause wherein Merlin stared at Arthur and Arthur stared at Merlin. Finally, Merlin gave Arthur a tight smile before once more pushing his arm away.

“Thanks,” he said brusquely. “But no thanks. I think I’ll be fine doing things the old fashioned way. But good luck to you.”

Now it was Arthur’s turn to stare at Merlin.

“You’re - saying no?” Arthur said slowly, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Yes,” Merlin nodded firmly.

“You’re saying yes?”

“No, I’m saying no!”

“No?”

“Yes!”

“Yes?”

“No! For god’s sakes!” Merlin gritted his teeth. “‘No, I do not want to be your wingman!’ Is that clear enough for you?”

Arthur was staring at him as if he were mad.

“But – but why?” Arthur was actually, genuinely puzzled. “Why wouldn’t you want to be my wingman? Everybody wants to be my wingman! Seriously! I have people practically begging me to go out clubbing with them!”

“Then why don’t you go with them and stop bothering _me_?” Merlin snapped.

“I don’t want to go with them,” Arthur replied, as if Merlin was being stupid. “I want to go with you. Seriously, why are you being like this?”

“Like what exactly?”

Arthur gestured, his hand encompassing the whole of Merlin’s body.

“You know,” he said, frowning as if he were trying to come up with an appropriate word. “Like a – like a – like a _dick_!”

Merlin gaped at him.

“Me?” he gasped. “ _I’m_ being the dick! What the – _You’re_ the one that came out of nowhere! I never asked you to come here! I don’t even know you!”

Arthur was eyeing Merlin speculatively.

He waited for Merlin to stop ranting before speaking.

“When was the last time you got laid?” he asked, contemplatively.

Merlin sputtered.

“What has that got to do with anything?” he protested. “And you know what – it’s none of your business! Now go away!”

“Must have been quite a while back,” Arthur mused, still eyeing him.

Merlin’s ears went red with anger and embarrassment.

“Actually, it was just over a month ago, thank you very much!” he snapped, his back arching defiantly.

Arthur hummed, non-committal.

“That’s still some time ago,” he said evenly. He cocked his head and looked at Merlin. “Want to know when the last time _I_ got laid was?”

“No,” Merlin shook his head.

“Ask me.”

“No.”

“Go on, ask me!”

“No!”

“Stop being a prick, _ask_ me!”

“Oh, for god’s – when?”

“When what?”

_“When was the last time you got laid?”_

“All right, there’s no need to beg!” Arthur smirked while Merlin silently fumed. “But if you really want to know – it was three hours ago. In my office, over the desk, with the new girl who brings the mail in. What do you think of that?”

This was getting really weird.

“That’s … that’s actually way too much information, mate,” Merlin said, shifting in his seat.

Arthur merely smirked.

“That’s not the point though,” he said. “The point is that you could be the same! All you need to do is stick with me! I’ll teach you everything I know!”

“I think I can do without the burden of your wisdom, thanks,” Merlin said dryly, shuffling away on his seat.

Arthur looked slightly put out but he wasn’t one to admit defeat.

“So why haven’t you had sex since last month?” he asked curiously, as if this were a perfectly normal conversation between two male strangers, one of whom wanted to get into the perfectly heterosexual pants of the other.

Merlin sputtered.

“As I have been telling you ever since you sat down – it’s none of your business!” Merlin said, slightly scandalised. Then his mind retreated back into where it had been for the past week. “Besides,” he muttered. “It’s not for lack of trying.”

Arthur smirked.

“Then it’s all the more reason to listen to me!” he said triumphantly. He then eyed Merlin for a moment before a look of comprehension dawned on his face. “Oh. Oh wait. Don’t tell me – you’re mooning over some girl who turned you down and now you’re drinking yourself into a coma. Am I right or am I right?”

Merlin wanted to tell him to fuck off but found he didn’t have the energy for it, and it probably wouldn’t work either. He grunted instead.

“Oh,” Arthur shook his head. “My friend, you are pathetic.”

“M’not your friend,” Merlin groused, but Arthur didn’t pay him any attention.

“You’re taking this too hard!” Arthur continued in what he probably thought was a comforting manner. It wasn’t. “So what if the slag didn’t want you? There’s plenty of fish out there with their legs wide open, just waiting for you!”

“Fish don’t have legs,” Merlin said blankly before registering what was said. “And she’s not a slag! She’s beautiful and smart, and funny and perfect in every single way and I should be sitting here with her instead of listening to some weird horny idiot trying to cajole me into becoming some sort of gigolo.”

“I would never!” Arthur sounded affronted. “Sure, loads of people would be willing to pay me to sleep with them, but I would never do that! I’m generous that way – I sleep with them for free! Besides,” he suddenly remembered that they were supposed to be talking about Merlin and not himself. “The girl didn’t want you, remember?”

Merlin groaned.

“That’s the thing,” he mumbled pitifully. “She did. She wanted me, and we were getting on so well, and we were just about to sleep together-”

“And then?” Arthur asked eagerly.

Merlin cringed, knowing how this would sound.

“When I – well, I kind of – I may have just stopped her.”

Arthur’s eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets.

“You did _what_?”

Merlin winced.

“Yeah, I know,” he said miserably. “I told her to stop.”

“Why the sodding hell did you do that?”

“Because I-” – and didn’t the reason seem completely idiotic now? – “I wanted to take it slowly. I wanted to get to know her before we – before we went any further.”

Arthur stared at him.

And stared.

And stared some more.

Finally, he spoke.

“You complete _girl_!” he said in disgust.

“Shuddup,” Merlin said half-heartedly.

“No, really,” Arthur said, suddenly smirking. “How does it feel, being a complete _girl’s blouse_?”

“Who even says things like that anymore?” Merlin groaned.

“Tell me, do you write those _Mills and Boon_ books for a living?” Arthur continued, still enjoying himself.

“No, I do not!” Merlin snapped, before saying with great dignity, “And just so you know, I am an architect.”

Arthur’s eyebrows rose and he leaned closer, interested.

“Really?” he purred. “So you’re in the business of erecting large edifices are you?” He waggled his eyebrows theatrically.

“Oh god, go away!” Merlin groaned but he couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping him.

Arthur beamed.

“You know,” he said suddenly. “There’s only one way to get over a girl like that, after having pined after her for so long.”

“Let me guess,” Merlin said dryly. “By having a good hard shag?”

Arthur’s grin was blinding.

“Look at you, you fast learner!” he nudged Merlin and winked. “You’re a man after my own heart! You see, Merlin - this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship!”

Merlin grimaced.

“No, it’s not and please don’t ruin _Casablanca_ for me by involving it in your dirty little schemes.”

Arthur gave him a look.

“Are you sure you aren’t gay?” he asked doubtfully, causing Merlin to flush and open his mouth to retort, but Arthur continued over him, his eyes narrowed in thought. “Actually, that’s an idea …”

“What, me being gay?” Merlin couldn’t help but ask.

Arthur gave him a look that was one part condescending and two parts benevolent.

“Well, apparently _that’s_ still no more than an idea,” Arthur gave a sniff to show how much he thought of that. “But I was referring to what you said about me ruining _Casablanca_.”

Merlin frowned.

“You mean when I said that you couldn’t ruin _Casablanca_ by using it in your dirty schemes?”

Arthur’s head shot up and he slapped his hand palm down on the table.

“Challenge accepted!” he declared, with all the gusto of a knight of old accepting a quest to defend a lady’s virtue.

Merlin’s jaw dropped.

“You can’t be serious!” he said incredulously.

Arthur threw him a devilish grin.

“I am,” he said smugly. “I will get someone to have sex with me by using _Casablanca_ to woo them!”

“You’re mad,” Merlin said, dubiously.

“You doubt me?” Arthur raised an arrogant eyebrow. “Watch me.”

He got up from his seat and began to walk towards the bar. He turned around when he saw Merlin wasn’t following. He stopped and crooked his head at him.

“You coming?”

Merlin paused for a moment, almost as if aware that this was a defining moment in his life (Arthur, of course, knew that meeting himself was a defining moment in _everyone’s_ life). He considered his options. He could sit here quietly and pine away over his one pitiful almost-empty glass of beer – or he could follow the strange crazy man and see him fall flat on his face as he tried to use lines from _Casablanca_ in order to get laid.

In the end, the decision wasn’t that difficult.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Merlin said quickly, jumping up from his seat. This he just had to see.

And that was how Merlin Emrys unwittingly and unintentionally became Arthur Pendragon’s wingman, and even more astonishingly, friends for life.

 

…

Merlin was sat drinking a beer contemplatively when-

 

**“Whoa – whoa – wait.”**

**Merlin looked up at Elena, who was sitting on the floor with her arms folded, looking petulant.**

**“Why – what’s wrong?” he asked, puzzled.**

**“Well you can’t just leave that there!” Elena said with a frown.**

**“I wasn’t,” Merlin said, his brow puckered. “I was going to tell you what happened when I next saw-”**

**“Oh no, no, no!” Cedric, one of Merlin’s old work colleagues said, shaking his head. “We’re not letting you get out of it that easily!”**

**“What?!” Merlin asked, genuinely confused, staring around at the faces waiting expectantly.**

**Morgana sighed.**

**“They’re waiting to hear how Arthur tried to get laid while using lines from _Casablanca_ , idiot,” she said fondly.**

**“Ah,” Merlin eyebrows rose in realisation. He considered this. “Are you sure you want to hear them? I mean, they really aren’t that good …” He grinned at the sudden “Oi!!” that came from near the kitchen.**

**“We’re sure!” several voices exclaimed eagerly.**

**Merlin sighed.**

**“Oh fine then,” he said, trying to sound put upon but failing to hide his grin. “But I’m warning you, if you think that Arthur’s a bit of a prat now, then it is nothing compared to what he was like back then. Back then he was a prat of epic proportions …”**

 

“Sam, I thought I told you never to play …” Arthur’s face, tight with emotion, flagged when John Kilgharrah turned around, an unimpressed eyebrow raised in Arthur’s direction as Barry Manilow’s melodious voice spouted the virtues of the Copacabana. “Oh,” Arthur said, his voice full of misery. “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else …” He sighed, and having ordered a stiff whisky, downed it in one go. A cute blonde girl, sat two seats away, looked over at him curiously.

“Are you all right?” she asked as Arthur winced as the chorus played once again.

Arthur looked up at her, his expression tortured.

“Yes, I – no, no I am not,” he admitted, gazing mournfully at his now empty glass. He let out another heart-rending sigh. The girl, moved by pity and curiosity, moved to the seat next to him. “This – this song. It brings back memories.”

“Memories?” the girl simpered.

“Yeah,” Arthur said heavily. At the girl’s look encouragement, he carried on. “It was a while ago now. She – she was my first love. This was our song.”

“You poor thing,” the girl murmured, her hand resting on Arthur’s arm. His bicep, to be precise. And the hand was stroking rather than just merely resting. “What was her name?”

Arthur’s eyes fell sadly on the beer mat in front of him before slowly raising up and meeting Merlin’s, who just happened to be sat a few seats away. Arthur’s eyes twinkled wickedly from underneath his lashes.

“Her name was Lola,” he said, love beaming from his eyes. “She was a showgirl.”

Merlin damn near choked on his beer.

“Oh, how romantic!” the obviously dim-witted blonde exclaimed, her fingers tightening on Arthur’s arm in what could have been a gesture of comfort or otherwise, some really obvious groping. “What happened?”

“It was a holiday romance,” Arthur said reminiscently. “I was in Rio at the time.” He sighed. “Music and passion _were_ always the fashion at the Copacabana,” he said wistfully.

“You poor thing,” the blonde ditz murmured, her other hand now stroking Arthur’s hair.

Merlin wilfully restrained himself from smacking his head against the bar. To think that he had actually liked the look of this girl!

“If only I could forget her!” Arthur was saying, his eyes full and vulnerable. “What I would give for just one hour without the memory of her in my mind …”

The girl next to him bit her lip.

“Well, I don’t know about an hour,” she said, looking up at Arthur from under her eyelashes. “But I do know one way that I can make you forget about her …” Arthur turned and looked soulfully into her eyes as she got up and took his hand, leading him towards the bathrooms. As he passed Merlin, his look of vulnerable hope changed into a wicked and triumphant grin.

Merlin resolved then and there that the blonde girl wasn’t going to be the future Mrs. Emrys. Any girl dumb enough to fall for any of Arthur’s lines didn’t deserve the privilege.

Twenty minutes later, the girl and a self-satisfied looking Arthur exited the toilets, looking flushed. As Merlin watched, Arthur turned devoted eyes to the girl and earnestly promised to call her even as she kissed him and walked backwards out of the pub, waving goodbye to him as she went.

The moment she was through the door, Arthur’s look of devotion disappeared and he marched up to Merlin triumphantly.

“So,” he said haughtily. “There – I did it! I told you that I could do it, didn’t I?”

Merlin snorted.

“Well you certainly did it!”

Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Very clever, Merlin,” he said impatiently. “But admit it – I aced that challenge!”

“Well done, you got some poor, dim little bimbo to sleep with you,” Merlin said in a monotone. “Congratulations.”

Arthur puffed his chest out in pride.

 

**“Hold on!”**

**Merlin frowned as he paused in the middle of the story.**

**“Now what?” he asked almost exasperatedly.**

**Gilli was frowning.**

**“He didn’t though, did he?” he said, his face scrunched up.**

**“Sorry?”**

**“He didn’t complete the challenge,” Gilli said slowly, nodding to himself. “The challenge was to get laid using Casablanca. He got laid quoting from bloody Manilow!”**

**A few snickers filled the air, as did the sound of people agreeing with Gilli’s statement.**

**Merlin raised an eyebrow at them.**

**“Okay,” he said evenly. “But perhaps you should have waited to hear the end before you started jumping to conclusions and questioning my investment in the challenge. As some of you will know,” here Merlin turned to Lance and winked. “I happen to take challenges very seriously. So where were we …”**

 

Arthur puffed his chest out in pride.

“However-”

Merlin’s voice made Arthur start and he turned around in affront.

“However,” Merlin repeated, narrowing his eyes before Arthur could protest. “I don’t think that counted as picking someone up by using Casablanca.”

Arthur’s eyes widened in outrage.

“Of course it counts!” he sputtered. “Didn’t you hear me at the start? That I didn’t want to hear that song again?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow.

“I would say it counted more as you picking someone up using the words of ‘Copacabana’,” he said dryly.

Arthur’s mouth twisted in a pout before he relaxed and the mischief shone in his eyes.

“Yeah, that was pretty brilliant, wasn’t it?” he said happily. “No wonder the ladies seem to love Manilow. That song’s some kind of crazy magic sex magnet or something!” Arthur kissed two fingers of his right hand and then raised his arm. “The next one is for you, Manilow,” he said solemnly.

Merlin stared at the man in front of him sombrely dedicating his next fuck to Barry Manilow and once again wondered what the hell he was still doing there.

“Is the ‘next one’ going to be done according to the rules?” he asked sternly, trying to get back to the point.

“There are rules to doing it?” Arthur smirked, but rolled his eyes when Merlin glared at him. “All right, all right, keep your knickers on. The next one will be done _according to the rules_. You want _Casablanca_? I will give you _Casablanca_!”

And with a determined stride he walked away.

Only to return a moment later.

“I think I will give it ten minutes,” he said with what could possibly be a sheepish smile. “The last one was … very enthusiastic.”

Merlin snorted.

“Do you even know what her name was?” he asked.

“I dunno,” Arthur shrugged, a silly smile on his face as he continued reminiscing over the past half hour. “Lola?”

“No, that was the name of your long lost love,” Merlin deadpanned. He waited a moment before shrugging and sighing. “You know what? Never mind.”

Arthur continued to ignore him.

He was busy planning his next conquest. It was going to be epic.

…

“Girls aren’t _all_ stupid, you know,” Merlin said amusedly, as Arthur brushed crumbs off his sleeve in disgust. Arthur had approached a girl while trying to use the same trick as before, only this time claiming to be a certain Rick pining after his Ilsa. The girl, having not only seen _Casablanca_ but having seen Arthur make his way in and out of the loos not half an hour before, promptly emptied a bowl of peanuts in his lap, not wanting to waste her drink on him. “You might want to try a new approach there mate. Namely one that involves _respect_.”

Arthur looked up at him incredulously, his eyebrow raised.

“I once got a girl to sleep with me by claiming I was David Beckham,” he said pointedly, turning his nose up at Merlin’s suggestion. Then he frowned. “Though that might have been more because she didn’t understand English very well rather than because she was stupid. I don’t know,” he mused. “It’s hard to tell if someone’s intelligent or not when you’re screwing them in the back seat of a car.”

Merlin wondered once again if he was hallucinating the words coming out of Arthur’s mouth because surely no one could be such an enormous arse in real life? He also gallantly refrained from mentioning that the very fact that these people were sleeping with Arthur meant that they probably didn’t have much to brag about in the IQ department in the first place.

Arthur, meanwhile, was continuing reminiscing.

“I guess a better example would be the time that I told this girl that I was from the future and that in the future she was the love of my life and that I just simply had to come back and find her before I lost her to someone else …”

Merlin honestly couldn’t believe he was hearing this.

“Or that time I pretended to be a deaf mute so that I could get into this guy’s pants and he totally fell for it …

“Or the time-”

“I think it’s time for you to try again, don’t you think?” Merlin said hurriedly, giving Arthur a shove.

…

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world she walks into mine,” Arthur grimaced over his drink on the bar top as John Kilgharrah watched disapprovingly from the corner where he was cleaning glasses with a dishcloth.

The girl seated next to Arthur glanced at him curiously. She was a pretty brunette with intelligent eyes and killer legs.

“Really?” she asked interestedly. Arthur smirked but the smirk soon faded upon her next question. “Which one is she?”

“Er – what?” Arthur asked, trying not to stammer.

“The girl you were talking about,” the brunette continued. “The one who just walked in. Which one is she?”

Arthur glanced around wildly, his eyes darting to each and every girl in the place and trying to decide which one would make the best ex-girlfriend show material. Which was to say, Merlin thought wryly, one that looked smoking hot but not too slutty. Potential girlfriends and hook-ups tended to look down on that, for some silly reason.

“Er – that one,” Arthur said, finally settling on a pretty blonde thing with a low cut (but still classy) dress.

“What’s her name?” the interested brunette asked.

“Bianca,” Arthur said at the same moment that a girl from across the room shouted “Janie!” causing the blonde not-really-ex-girlfriend to whip around and squeal out a hello.

The brunette turned a raised eyebrow to Arthur.

“Er – she appears to be using her middle name,” Arthur said quickly, trying to recover lost ground. “I haven’t seen her for a while, you know.”

“How long ago did you stop dating her?” the brunette interrogated. Arthur was seriously beginning to get turned off by her.

“Five years ago,” Arthur said promptly – just as a chorus of ‘Happy birthday’ went up from Janie’s table. Arthur winced and as he and the brunette watched, they saw Janie being congratulated and wished a very happy eighteenth birthday.

The brunette turned a withering eye on Arthur.

“You went out with her when she was thirteen, huh?” she asked, her voice cold.

“Er – actually, it must have been a different girl,” Arthur mumbled and quickly made his escape, mumbling under his breath about girls looking way older than they actually were.

“Well done there, Romeo,” Merlin drawled, coming to sit down at the seat next to him with a smirk. “You know, I’m not sure I want to know your fascinating seduction techniques if they are only to be used on pulling thirteen-year-olds. I don’t know about you, but I quite like not going about being known as the local child-molester.”

“Oh shut up,” Arthur growled.

Merlin simply smirked.

…

 

It took a few attempts, but in the end Arthur finally got it.

“You have a boyfriend,” Arthur demurred, his eyes lowered vulnerably.

The girl in front of him gazed earnestly into his eyes.

“But Rick,” she said, her eyes brimming. Arthur had decided that he rather liked using the name. The number of people who hadn’t seen _Casablanca_ before was shocking. “I don’t _want_ to go to Butlins for Christmas! I want to stay here. With you.”

Arthur gave another of his patented mournful sighs.

“I know,” he said wistfully, trailing his fingers through her wavy blonde hair. “And I want to be with you as well. But I also know this.” His eyes jerked momentarily to where Merlin sat, enraptured with the performance, before returning to earnestly gaze into the girl’s eyes. “If that car leaves the house and you're not with him, you'll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.”

The girl took in a ragged breath.

“You think?” she whispered.

“I _know_ ,” Arthur said gently.

“But – but what about _us_?” the girl asked, her lower lip trembling. “What if we never see each other again?”

Arthur swallowed painfully before taking the girl’s hand gently in his.

“Well in that case,” he said, his eyes soulful and large. “At least we’ll always have The Great Dragon.”

The girl almost burst into tears at that.

“No,” she said at last, bravely sucking in any tears. “We’ll always have _tonight_.”

And with that, she took Arthur by the hand and led him out of the bar. At the very last minute, Arthur turned and raised a triumphant hand in Merlin’s direction, a look of noble victory on his face. Merlin sighed but raised his glass in acknowledgement.

The crazy bastard had actually done it.

 

*

Merlin spent the next half hour staring at his phone and drinking beer. With Arthur no longer there to serve as a distraction, he had little to do but sit there and think of Morgana.

He was still doing this an hour later when Arthur breezed back inside the pub.

“Ah good, you’re still here!” he said cheerily, swaggering up to him and sitting down at his table. “I was wondering if you had gone home.”

“You thought of me while screwing some poor girl in her own bed? How thoughtful of you,” Merlin deadpanned.

Arthur gave him a sly smile and a wink before reaching forward and snagging Merlin’s glass before he could react and stop him. Merlin’s face screwed up in annoyance and he lifted his head to snap at Arthur but something made him stifle his protest. Arthur’s hair was flopping over his crinkled eyes and the right side of his mouth was quirked up in a smile. For a moment he almost did look like a suave and dashing Bogart-esque character about to sweep someone off their feet. Arthur waited till Merlin relaxed and rolled his eyes before lifting the stolen half-full glass up in the air. “Here’s looking at you kid,” he said with an almost-fond smile, before lifting the glass up to his mouth and draining it.

 _Huh_ , Merlin thought, his stomach twisting oddly (out of the awkwardness of the situation, no doubt). Smiling weakly, his cheeks strangely flushed, he quickly directed his gaze to his phone.

Arthur sat there staring at him intensely for a moment before sighing. He may or may not have muttered something that involved the words “stubborn” and “oblivious” and “idiot”.

After that they settled into a comfortable camaraderie fuelled by more beer and inane conversation. Merlin was of the firm opinion that great friendships could not be founded on a better platform. Especially when Arthur seemed to be the one doing most of the buying.

Merlin was sat drinking a beer contemplatively when Arthur arrived at his table, two beers in his hand and his eyes alight.

“You will not _believe_ the rack on the bird who just came in,” Arthur said, the drool apparent in his tone.

Merlin cast a half-interested eye up at the room and then froze in horror as he saw that the bird with the unbelievable rack was none other than Morgana.

“Oh fucking fuck,” he swore under his breath.

“I know, right?” Arthur said, his eyes still glued to Morgana’s chest. “Awesome, isn’t it?”

“No, you prat!” Merlin hissed. “It is most decidedly not awesome! That’s _Morgana_!”

Arthur swung his head towards Merlin, interested.

“Morgana? Who’s Morgana?”

Merlin groaned and hid his face in his hands.

“My almost-but-not-quite girlfriend. You know, the one I told you about?”

Arthur looked non-plussed.

Merlin sighed.

“You know, the one that wanted to have sex with me but I told her to stop?”

Recognition dawned in Arthur’s eyes.

“Oh yeah!” he said. He raked his eyes over Morgana once more. “Shit mate. Are you _sure_ you aren’t gay?”

“Yeah,” Merlin said miserably, following Arthur’s gaze. “Though maybe I had better rethink that stance.”

Arthur flashed him a smirk before returning his gaze to Morgana’s breasts.

“You mind if I take a shot at her?” he asked, his eyes narrowed in thought.

Merlin let out a snort.

“You’d hate her. She actually has a brain.”

“Brains can be overlooked,” Arthur said contemplatively. “Especially when they are the least attractive thing about the person in question.”

Merlin snorted once more.

“Let me rephrase what I said – _she’d_ hate _you_. With a _passion_.”

“Then explain to me why she is walking this way!” Arthur said with a triumphant smirk, causing Merlin to bolt upright and jerk about in a panic, not knowing whether to sit where he was or make a run for the men’s bathrooms. He settled on cowering over his phone, his eyes tensely fixed on the screen, twitching slightly so as to try and subtly check where Morgana was.

“Mate, are you all right?” Arthur asked in concern. “You don’t have epilepsy, do you?”

Merlin threw him a filthy look and was about to hiss at him to be quiet when a shadow fell across the table.

“Merlin?”

Merlin winced before smoothing out his expression and looking up.

“Morgana!” he said, trying to sound natural and surprised and not constipated. “What are you doing here?”

Morgana bit her lip and looked at him.

“I was hoping to find you here, actually,” she said softly, her eyes flicking over to Arthur and then back to Merlin. “I – I wanted to talk to you. Alone.”

“Oh,” Merlin said, fidgeting. “Right. Okay then.”

There was silence and nobody moved.

“Alone.” Morgana repeated, this time focusing her laser eyed stare at Arthur.

“Hmm,” Arthur said, nodding.

“ _Alone_ ,” Morgana’s voice could have frozen blood.

Arthur still didn’t seem to get it.

“Arthur, go away,” Merlin said wearily.

Arthur looked up at him, hurt.

“Just like that?” he asked, a wounded look on his face. “After all this time, after the bond that we built, you’re just sending me away? Just like that?”

“You can come back later,” Merlin grumbled, avoiding Morgana’s critical eyes.

“You’re damn right I can,” Arthur said stoutly, raising his chin as he stood up and moved away. “Just remember the first rule of being my wingman, Merlin – bros before hos. You got that?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Merlin mumbled, his ears going red, not daring to even sneak a peek at Morgana’s expression.

“Which reminds me!” Arthur said brightly, eyeing Merlin’s attire speculatively. “I don’t suppose you own a good-quality formal suit, do you? Only if you are going to be my wingman you are going to have to do it without looking like some sort of lazy art stud-”

“I said go away!” Merlin practically bellowed, feeling mortified.

Arthur grunted and finally moved away, though not without mumbling several unflattering words under his breath.

It was a moment before Merlin could raise his face up to Morgana’s.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered, smiling weakly.

Morgana’s look of disbelief slowly morphed into one of amusement.

“Don’t worry, I understand,” she said smoothly, a smile pulling at her lips as she took a seat opposite him. “After all, you live by the sacred and honoured code of _bros before hos_. How could I _possibly_ object?”

Merlin flushed crimson.

“He didn’t mean that,” he said hurriedly, before pausing and amending, “Well, he probably did, actually. He’s a bit of a tosser, really. More than a bit. But he didn’t mean that you were a ho. Because you’re not. A ho, I mean. You’re – you’re … well – you’re not a-”

“Ho?” Morgana asked, an eyebrow raised.

It should have been impossible for Merlin to become any redder than before but apparently it wasn’t.

“Er – yeah,” he said, fidgeting even more, but with a smile twitching at his lips. He sighed when he realised that he was once more falling under the spell of Morgana’s charms. He steeled himself and cleared his face of emotion. “What are you doing here, Morgana?”

It was Morgana’s turn to fidget now.

“I – I’ve been thinking of you,” she said in a small voice, her eyes focused on her perfectly lacquered nails.

“Oh?” Merlin asked tonelessly, though his heartbeat quickened.

“Yeah.” Morgana’s eyes met his. “And I wanted to see you.”

“You did?” Merlin’s mouth felt a little dry.

“Yeah,” Morgana nodded. She bit her lip. “You never called me after – after that night.”

Merlin felt something tighten in his ribcage.

“Did you really expect me to?” he asked quietly, unable to repress the bitterness that he felt. The amount of alcohol in his system prevented him from feeling guilty at the wince Morgana gave.

“No,” she sighed eventually. “I didn’t. But I meant what I said that night, Merlin. I like you – I really do. That’s why I came here tonight. I want us to be friends. I know it’s … awkward, and I don’t expect it to be easy, but – I would very much like it if we were.”

Merlin didn’t meet her eyes but let his travel down to the glass-ring stained table. He liked Morgana – more than liked her. And he liked being near her. But that would also hurt – being so near to her and yet knowing that he couldn’t be with her. Could he do that? Could he live with that sting of rejection? With that pain of knowing that she could have been his future wife?

… With the hope that she could she still yet be The One?

He made up his mind.

“Okay,” he said, nodding and raising his eyes up, catching Morgana with her lip between her teeth and a strangely apprehensive look on her face that soon smoothed out into one of happiness. Merlin gave her a small smile that soon grew to match the beaming one on her face. “Let’s give it a go! Gwen and Lance already love you and it’s annoying that there’s two of them and only one of me – they always get the majority vote and I hate pineapple on pizza.”

“I guess I’ll just have to even those odds then,” Morgana said, her eyes crinkled in a fond smile.

“Did someone say pineapple pizza?” suddenly Arthur was at the table, clutching three beers in his hands and shoving his way into the booth next to Merlin. “I love pineapple pizza! Who’s ordering?”

Merlin and Morgana exchanged a glance, Morgana’s mouth twitching before Merlin rolled his eyes, sighed exasperatedly and reached out a grabbed a beer from Arthur.

And that’s the story of how Merlin never managed to swing the vote when it came to pizza, but that didn’t matter for very long as he and Morgana soon formed a rogue faction that defected and ordered their own pizza, though there did occur various skirmishes between the two when deciding their stance on olives (Morgana was for, Merlin was against).

Coincidentally, that’s also the story of how these five different people all met and ended up being friends for life.

 

**“I remember the day that Gwen and Lance met Arthur,” Morgana sighed reminiscently. “Can you remember their faces?!”**

**“How were we to know that he was actually really like that?” Lance defended himself half-heartedly, as Gwen gave a mischievous smile. “He was just such a – a-”**

**“Prat?” pretty much everyone volunteered.**

**“Well – yes,” Lance admitted, before turning to raise an eyebrow at Arthur’s grumbling protest. “Keep in mind, Arthur, that you did try and hit on Gwen. Repeatedly. Even after she told you that she was engaged. Again, repeatedly. With me right there.”**

**“Not to mention that he then went to hit on Morgana a minute later,” Merlin added.**

**“Not to mention that he stared at my breasts all night,” Morgana smirked, not looking the slightest bit annoyed.**

**“Don’t you think we should move on with the story?” Arthur asked hurriedly.**

**There was some good-natured grumbling but eventually everyone settled down, ready for the next part of the tale.**

**“Well,” Merlin said, musing. “I suppose the next most important part takes place a few months down the line. This was the time I met the girl that I was sure that I was going to marry. This was when I met the only girl – apart from Morgana, of course – that I was truly, truly in love with. This was the time that I met Freya …”**

 

**  
**

**HOW MERLIN MET FREYA, THE ONLY GIRL – APART FROM MORGANA – THAT MERLIN WAS TRULY, TRULY IN LOVE WITH**

 

_March 2008_

 

It was finally the day of Gwen and Lance’s wedding and so far, the day had been perfect. The ceremony had gone off without a hitch. Gwen had looked gorgeous in her wedding dress, Lancelot had looked the picture of honest love and joy, and Merlin had not forgotten the wedding ring, proving that he was not a hopeless Best Man after all, despite all the allusions that Arthur had kept making. Arthur, now a firm part of the group, had been enlisted in the wedding party as well and had turned up to the wedding in full morning suit which he relished wearing every second of.

Merlin was almost certain that Arthur secretly had some sort of suit fetish, seeing as he seemed to wear nothing but three pieces, but as Arthur and the aforementioned suit fetish had helped both him and Lance choose tuxes for the wedding, Merlin supposed that he shouldn’t be so hard on him. Meanwhile, in the time that they had known each other, Morgana and Gwen had become such great friends that Morgana had been chosen to be Gwen’s maid of honour (much to the enormous disgruntlement of Penelope Firth, who would otherwise have bagged the coveted position). Morgana looked stunning, but her beauty did not overshadow Gwen’s – Gwen’s joy and happiness shone through, so that even if she hadn’t been the bride, she would have been the loveliest woman there.

They were now at the reception party and it was in full swing. Merlin had given the best man speech, had got the required laughs and had made a toast to the happy couple, and everything had gone smoothly. The more formal part of the evening being over, everyone had relaxed, the jackets had come off, the ties had been loosened and the chatting had started. People started swarming forward to congratulate the bride and groom, Morgana had been asked to dance within seconds of the DJ starting up, and Arthur had been salivating at the number of single girls on the floor, eyeing them all like he was at a free-for-all buffet.

“Just go,” Merlin gave him a shove and rolled his eyes. As if freed from a spell, Arthur set off like a shot, going one way and then catching sight of a lower-cut dress (read: sluttier girl _inside_ the dress) and changing directions mid-way.

Merlin sighed and made his way away from the crowds gathered around Gwen and Lance and on the dance floor. The reception room seemed to house some sort of aquarium: embedded in the walls and running around the room was a long continuous fish tank filled with a colourful assortment of fish. Merlin personally couldn’t see the point but the fish looked very pretty and though somewhat at odds with the wedding décor (which had nothing fish-related whatsoever) he supposed they weren’t doing any harm. Unless there were any piranhas in there. Merlin wasn’t very sure that he’d like a piranha. Too many teeth by far.

He was staring at a pretty little orange fish when he sensed someone come and stand next to him.

“That’s a clownfish,” a light female voice informed him and he looked up to see a very pretty young woman with thick, wavy brown hair, kind eyes and a sweet smile standing next to him. Her dress was the colour of red wine with long gauzy sleeves and Merlin couldn’t help but look her over in admiration. The woman blushed under his gaze and shifted shyly but seemed able to work up the nerve not to duck her head.

Merlin blinked at the lovely creature in front of him before remembering what she had said and he turned to look at the fish in question with the intention of scrutinising it more closely.

“Ah, right!” he said when his eyes fell on it, his expression brightening. “Like the fish in _Finding Nemo_!”

The young woman let out a surprised laugh, which Merlin found himself liking very much.

“Yes, like the one in _Finding Nemo_ ,” she said. “Which, incidentally, is one of my favourite films ever!”

“You like fish then?” Merlin asked, before wincing at what was perhaps the worst line in the history of bad lines.

But the young woman merely laughed.

“Very much,” she said, smiling gently. “I studied marine biology at university.”

“Really? Wow!” Merlin said, impressed. “I’ve never met a marine biologist before!”

The girl flushed at that.

“I’m not – well, that is to say – I’m not quite a marine biologist at the moment,” she said, staring at the floor, not meeting Merlin’s eyes. “I’m in something … a lot smaller scale.”

Merlin’s eyes softened.

“You’ll get there,” he said gently, smiling at her encouragingly when she glanced up. She gave him a shy smile in return and he felt something in his heart clench. He quickly cleared his throat and turned his face away. “In the meantime, I suppose there is always _Finding Nemo_ to fall back on.”

The young woman laughed.

“There is that,” she nodded with a smile. They paused as a little boy in a mini tuxedo walked past them, his eyes glued to the screen of his Nintendo DS. “It’s such a shame that kids nowadays don’t seem to understand the brilliance of Disney.”

“I know!” Merlin exclaimed, turning to face her.

“They just don’t seem interested,” the young woman continued, her eyes trailing after the boy with the videogame. “I can’t help but think that they are missing out.”

“And it shows!” Merlin agreed. “I just don’t understand it – we all loved Disney when we were young – and we all turned out pretty damn great, if I say so myself!”

“I’ve always promised myself,” she said with a laugh. “That when I had kids I would make them watch the entire Disney back catalogue – force them if I had to!”

Merlin turned to stare at her.

“Me too!” he breathed. He stared at her for a moment, taking her in. Could this – could she –

“I always liked _Cinderella_ the best,” she was saying, a dreamy look of her face. “I always used to wish that it was me who was going to a ball, and meeting a handsome prince and being waltzed around the ballroom like a princess …”

Merlin’s heart overflowed with fondness.

“Well,” he said slowly. “I don’t know about the ball bit, and I’m no handsome prince, but – would - would you care to dance? With me, I mean?”

The young woman stared at Merlin, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Oh, please, yes, please!”

His breath coming fast, Merlin reached out and took her hand, leading her onto the dance floor where other couples were slow-dancing. Placing a hand carefully around her waist and guiding her arm to his shoulder, they began to dance. The young woman looked up at Merlin in wonder before lowering her head to bury it in his shoulder. Merlin felt a wave of tenderness come over him and he grasped her more firmly, swaying gently all the while.

They stayed on the floor for one more song but when the band changed to something livelier, they moved away by mutual agreement and walked towards the edge of the room to find somewhere to sit.

“I don’t even know your name,” Merlin said, looking at her in something akin to awe.

The girl blushed but maintained eye contact.

“The prince didn’t know Cinderella’s name, either,” she murmured, looking up at him demurely through her eyelashes.

Merlin’s eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Very well then,” he murmured. “I suppose I will just have to call you Cinderella for the rest of the night.”

“And what shall I call you in return, my handsome prince?” asked ‘Cinderella’, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Merlin frowned in thought.

“You may call me-” he paused for dramatic effect. “… _Dragoon the Great_!”

‘Cinderella’ let out a snort of laughter.

“What?” she gasped, her tiny frame still shaking with laughter. “Where on earth did you get that from?”

Merlin grinned at her.

“You don’t get to question my name, _Cinderella_ ,” he said pointedly, his mouth twitching as he tried to suppress a grin. “And who’s to say that the Prince wasn’t called Dragoon the Great in the film? I certainly never heard otherwise …”

“You can’t be serious!” she laughed.

“Oh, but I am!” Merlin raised his chin mock-sternly. “You shall have to refer to me by that name all night. And you will spend all night desperately wondering what my name really is but you won’t get the-”

And naturally, that was when Arthur appeared and promptly ruined everything.

“Merlin! Merlin! Merlin!” He plonked himself down on the chair next to Merlin’s and tugged at his arm like an impatient toddler. His tie and suit were askew and his hair was all stuck up and messy like someone had been running their hands through it, and he smelled suspiciously like- “Merlin, I’m having so much sex right now!”

Merlin recoiled with a look of horror.

“Wha- why would you even tell me that?” he demanded, before recalling the entire duration of their friendship. “Oh yeah. Because you’re you.”

“Merlin, you have got to get in on some of this action!” Arthur ignored everything that Merlin had just said. “It’s time for you to spread your wings, mate – you’ve got the benefit of my expertise, you are actually wearing a suit for once, and the girls here are just begging to be – oh, hello!” He had apparently finally spotted that Merlin had company. His eyes raked her from top to toe before he threw Merlin a sly grin. “No need to tell you that though, hey? I’m proud of you, mate.” He gave Merlin a friendly punch on the arm that hurt more than it had any right to before getting up from the seat. “Well, I will leave you to it. There’s plenty more fish in the sea, after all, and I’m hungry.” And with that he strode off, leaving Merlin shocked, mortified and, truth be told, ever so slightly grossed out.

He winced as he too remembered that he had company.

“Er,” he said, giving a weak and uncomfortable laugh. “Firstly I want – no, I need to apologise to you for that and secondly I have to completely and honestly assure you that I’m not – that is, he wasn’t – I’m not trying to-”

The young woman smiled and put him out of his misery.

“It’s all right,” she said, reassuring him. “I approached you, remember? And don’t worry, I don’t think that you are anything like him.”

“I don’t think there’s _anyone_ like him,” Merlin replied honestly, making her laugh.

“So,” she said after a minute. “Merlin, huh? And after I was getting so used to ‘Dragoon the Great’ …”

Merlin winced.

“Yeah …” he said sheepishly, trying to hide the fact that he was genuinely crestfallen to not be called ‘Dragoon the Great’ for the rest of the evening. “That fell flat on its face, didn’t it? Though I guess it would have happened sooner or later. I’m actually surprised you didn’t recognise me, considering I was the best man and all …”

“Oh, were you?” the girl asked curiously. “I missed that bit – I came in late. And I wasn’t strictly invited as such.”

“You came with someone?” Merlin asked, his heart sinking.

‘Cinderella’ shifted slightly.

“I guess it’s more truthful to say that I came _for_ someone,” she said slowly, a small smile on her face. “Which is actually a roundabout way of saying ‘no, I’m not crashing the wedding’ as well as ‘no, I’m not dating anyone either’.”

Merlin’s face relaxed as he let out a sigh of relief that he hadn’t even known that he had been holding. He smiled at her and she smiled back.

“So,” she said after a moment, straightening the skirt of her dress. “Since your secret identity has been exposed and I can – sadly – no longer refer to you as Dragoon the Great, I suppose that I too should give up my secret identity.”

“You will?” Merlin asked, his face brightening.

“Yes.” She gave him a soft smile before making her face look stern. “But that is all that I will reveal. The Prince _did_ have Cinderella’s shoe to hold onto, I suppose, so it’s only fair that you get my name.”

“It’s a deal,” Merlin said, holding out his hand.

The girl looked at him and her eyes shone with a soft sweetness that suffused her whole being. She glanced down at his waiting hand before slowly, cautiously reaching out with her own.

“Freya,” she said shyly. “My name is Freya.”

Merlin grasped her hand gently but firmly.

“Hello Freya,” he said softly. “I’m Merlin.”

Freya’s mouth twitched.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” she said, bowing her head.

“The pleasure, dear lady, is mine,” Merlin declared, returning the bow with a gallant sweeping one of his own.

Freya giggled as Merlin then raised her hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss upon it.

“You are very forward, sir,” she said, using her other hand to fan at her face.

“Well, that’s me,” Merlin replied with a grin, breaking the tableau. “Always looking to the future!”

Freya laughed at that, her eyes creasing in merriment. Merlin watched her with an almost alarming fondness, considering that he had just met her.

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice came out sounding a bit too roughened. “Want to get out of here? No – no, I don’t mean like that!” he added hurriedly at Freya’s raised eyebrow. “I just meant – out of this room.”

Freya crooked her head at him for a moment in an almost childlike way before nodding, at first slowly but then more eagerly.

“Okay,” she said, her nodding speeding up. “Yes. All right, let’s go!”

Merlin threw her a grin before getting up and taking her hand, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. His eyes caught those of Arthur, who was busy chatting up a stunning leggy blonde. When their eyes met, Arthur’s mouth curved up in a smirk and he gave Merlin a thumbs up as well as an approving nod. Rolling his eyes, Merlin turned back and tugged Freya gently over to the doors.

“Are you sure that no one will miss you?” she asked as they slipped out of the door.

Merlin shrugged.

“It’s unlikely,” he admitted. “The speeches and the whole official bit are over. It’s just the dancing and partying going on now. Besides,” he threw her a wicked grin. “The alcohol’s probably taking effect right about now.”

“Did you drink very much?” Freya asked casually, but Merlin noticed that she was chewing her lip.

“Just a glass or two of wine,” Merlin answered truthfully. “I didn’t want to overdo it and mess up my speech. Lance and Gwen would have been too nice to say anything but I’m pretty sure that Morgana would have clawed my eyes out. She’s got vicious nails.”

Freya shrugged with a bemused smile but followed Merlin through to one of the empty rooms.

“Ah!” Merlin said with satisfaction, pulling her into what appeared to be some sort of old-fashioned, well furnished parlour. “Isn’t this great?”

“It’s nice, I guess,” Freya said uncertainly, taking in the luxurious room with big eyes.

“It’s a very fine example of 18th century architecture,” Merlin revealed with an almost besotted look in his eyes. “And you see those mouldings? Right there near the ceiling and around the hearth? Those are some of the most beautiful features that I have seen this side of London!”

“Oh?” Freya watched Merlin with amused eyes.

“Yes!” Merlin nodded eagerly. “In fact – and don’t tell Gwen or Morgana this – Lance won’t mind, he’s used to me by now – but one of the reasons that I was so keen for them to book the reception here is because this building is just stunning. I mean – the windows – have you seen them? And the mantelpiece has these gorgeous etchings – okay, some of them have chipped over time – but still. I’ve been trying to start a petition to get this listed as a Grade A building but it’s really hard to get those people up at the office to-” He paused as he realised that Freya was biting her lip to try to keep from laughing. “What? What is it?”

Freya let out a small chuckle.

“It’s nothing,” she said with a soft laugh. “Well – it’s you. You’re so – _passionate_ about buildings!”

“Oh,” Merlin coloured and scratched the back of his neck embarrassedly. “Well – I guess I should have mentioned this earlier – I’m sort of an architect. Well, not ‘sort of’ – I _am_ an architect. So it’s kind of in the job description to be passionate about buildings.” He gave an awkward laugh before looking at Freya with a sheepish smile. “You think I’m a giant nerd now, don’t you?”

Instead of laughing, Freya got one of those breathtakingly sweet looks on her face and she walked towards Merlin and laid a gentle arm on his shoulder.

“No,” she said. “I don’t. I think it’s terribly sweet. You remind me of myself – everyone looks at me oddly when I start talking about fish and reefs and things like that. I’m just glad that I’m not the only one who’s so passionate about something.”

Merlin squeezed her hand.

“Me too,” he smiled. “I guess I’m just used to people looking bored when I start talking about architecture, or rolling their eyes and telling what a huge dork I am.” He paused. “Well actually the last one’s mainly Arthur. Only Arthur, really. And not just when I talk about architecture, now that I think about it.”

“I presume Arthur’s the – er-”

“Massive man-slut you met earlier?” Merlin asked, arching an eyebrow as Freya choked back on a laugh. “You presumed rightly.”

“He sounds like quite the character!” Freya mused.

Merlin’s heart sank as he surveyed her. He remembered the silent vow that he had made the very day that he had met Arthur that anyone who was moronic enough to fall for him would never be the future Mrs. Emrys. Surely Freya – smart, sweet, beautiful Freya - wouldn’t go falling for that stupid –

His expression must have shown on his face as Freya’s expression turned into one of almost-horror.

“Oh no!” she said immediately. “I’m not – I don’t think he’s – I’m not at all interested in him like that!” she said firmly, prompting Merlin to let out a sigh of relief. “I’m just amazed that there are women who are interested!”

“Men too, apparently,” Merlin said wryly, adding quickly, “No, myself not included. Thank god.”

“Thank god,” Freya repeated, bumping her shoulder with his.

“So,” Merlin said after a comfortable moment. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Hey!” Freya protested with a laugh. “No cheating! Remember what I said about the Prince not knowing anything about Cinderella at the end of the night?”

Merlin grumbled but it was half-hearted and without any real bite.

“So what do we do now?” he asked then.

Freya took a look around the room.

“Hmm,” she said, a gleam coming to her eye. “This is a pretty big building, right?”

“Right,” Merlin agreed cautiously, before his enthusiasm for the building overtook him. “It was originally built as the home office of a very important and distinguished member of the cabinet, who … I mean yeah, it is a pretty big building. Sorry.”

Freya flashed him a smile before coming closer to him.

“You know when you were a child and you always wanted to go exploring places like this and you would find all these amazing hiding places but you could never use them because your parents wouldn’t let you?”

“Yes …” Merlin replied, an idea of what she had in find forming in his head.

“Well,” Freya gestured with her arms. “It looks like we finally have the chance.”

Merlin’s grin was slow to unfold but when it did, it was blinding.

“Okay,” he said, nodding. “Yeah. Why not? That’s actually a brilliant idea!”

“Glad you think so,” Freya smirked. “You’re counting.”

And before Merlin could protest, she had already run off, the rich burgundy of her dress rustling in her wake. Merlin shook his head with a grin before closing his eyes and starting to count.

“Ready or not, here I come,” he muttered under his breath once he had reached a hundred.

Thus started one of the most fun games of hide and seek that he had ever had. Sure, there were a few awkward moments: he had gone to look for Freya in the reception hall and had peeked under a table – only to realise that a lady was sitting at the table and had noticed him peering under it. She glared at him, pointedly crossed her legs and muttered “pervert” under her breath before resolutely turning her face away. Face beet red, Merlin had slunk off to look for Freya in another part of the building.

Then there had been a time when he had heard soft giggling coming from one of the cupboards, and he had crept up to the door, grasped the handle, and pulled the door open with a giant ‘HA!’ – only to see the face of a shocked girl with her dress over her shoulders and a very annoyed looking Arthur who snapped “Get your own cupboard!” at him before slamming the door shut and doing something behind it that caused the girl to let out a moan of ecstasy, Merlin’s intrusion forgotten. Merlin wasn’t so quick to forget the incident, however, and he continued his search with a great deal less gusto.

Merlin had almost given up after having searched the entire building with no success when he suddenly saw a sign that had an arrow pointing the way to the basement. With a sigh of relief, Merlin headed in the direction stated, only to pause and reverse his footsteps. He crept back into the reception hall, nabbed a bottle of wine and a plate of sandwiches, and then made his way back to the basement.

“Freya?” he whispered as he walked down the stairs. He reached the bottom and when he looked up he finally saw her. She was sat on a blanket in the middle of the floor of the basement, waiting for him.

“Hello,” she said with a smile. “You found me.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said, his throat dry.

Freya took in his appearance and her face brightened.

“Looks like we both had the same idea then,” she said with a gentle laugh.

Merlin then realised that she was not alone on the blanket. Set just in front of her was a bottle of wine and two slices of cake.

“I thought we might be a little hungry after all that running about,” she said with a shrug.

“You thought right!” Merlin said, hurrying over to join her on the rug. He set everything down and then gingerly sat himself down on the blanket. He picked up a bottle of wine and then pulled a corkscrew out of his pocket with a wink. He opened the bottle with a quick twist of the screw, only to stare down at the floor in front of him in dismay. “It seems like we both forgot to bring any glasses!”

Freya crooked her head at him.

“It’s a good thing that we don’t need any then,” she said, before taking the corkscrew from him and opening her own bottle. She then solemnly lifted the bottle in a toast.

“Here’s to fairytales,” she said solemnly.

“And to True Love,” Merlin replied gravely.

Freya’s eyes softened as she looked at him before they dipped to the ground and she swallowed.

“Yes,” she said softly, finally raising her eyes to meet his. “Here’s to Cinderella finding her Prince.” And, raising the bottle to him in salute, she took a long swig from it. Merlin watched her in surprised wonder before promptly following suit.

He didn’t know how long they sat there, the two of them. All he knew was that time seemed to have frozen and that they were in their own little bubble of happiness. Freya was alternatively sweet and shy and then would suddenly become passionate, like a little tigress, and Merlin couldn’t help but find her fascinating. They talked about seemingly every topic under the sun and unlike almost everyone that Merlin knew, Freya actually seemed quite interested when he spoke about buildings and his love for them, and how he had always wanted to be an architect ever since he was a little boy with building blocks.

In return, he listened enraptured as she talked about how it was her dream to study the reefs in Australia and how she had had an assortment of tropical fish as a child which she had named after the Monty Python crew (John and Eric were her favourites) and then later additions had been named after the Three Stooges, Laurel and Hardy, and (for some reason best known to her) The Goodies as well. Though Merlin couldn’t really talk – when he was younger he’d had two cats named Luke and Han, and had secretly christened his mum’s beloved Persian Leia. He really should have seen it coming when Luke and Han had a hissy little scrap over her – which Han went on to win, naturally. Han and Leia then went on to have lots of furry little babies and Merlin had almost cried at when he had learnt that they couldn’t possibly keep them. Freya had laughed at that, but had held his hand comfortingly all the same.

There was no denying it. Merlin was in love.

He really needed to learn to stop falling in love with people after less than a day.

They were lying back on the blanket now, side by side, still slightly giddy from the wine, the laughter and the easy company. Merlin turned his head to the side to look at Freya. She was looking straight ahead, but he could see the happy glow in her eyes and the relaxed expression on her face.

 _She’s beautiful_ , he thought to himself. _So very beautiful_.

Freya turned to face him in that moment, and Merlin felt himself flushing slightly, even though he knew that she couldn’t know what he had been thinking.

“What?” she asked him, a slightly amused look on her face.

“Nothing,” Merlin said quickly, causing her to tilt her head and frown. Merlin sighed. “Actually, no. Not nothing. It’s just – I – I think you are beautiful.”

Freya’s mouth opened involuntarily and she sucked in a breath. Her cheeks heated and she looked down at her feet.

“Oh?” she asked, her fingers playing with the material of the blanket.

“Yeah,” Merlin said roughly, swallowing. “I mean, I – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make this awkward, I won’t say it again-”

“No, it’s all right,” Freya said with a quiet smile, raising her eyes up to meet his. They glowed, soft and warm. “I liked it. No one has ever told me that I’m beautiful before.”

Merlin swallowed.

“Then more fool them,” he said, his eyes impossibly earnest.

Freya drew in a long, slow breath, her eyes flickering over Merlin. Slowly, she leant forward.

“I’m so glad I met you, Merlin,” she said, her voice warm but her eyes serious.

“Me too,” Merlin gave her a shaky smile.

“I don’t think I’ve been as happy as I’ve been tonight for – well, a very long time,” Freya gave a fragile laugh.

“You deserve to be happy,” Merlin murmured, his breath coming faster as he leaned closer.

“Mmm,” Freya agreed, leaning over, her eyes flickering shut. Merlin leaned forward to press his lips against hers, when –

The slam of a door made them jump and pull apart almost guiltily. Freya’s eyes widened and she sat up, almost in dismay.

“Is everything all right?” Merlin asked anxiously.

Freya gave him a quick reassuring smile.

“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head, her curls flying everywhere. “It just startled me, that’s all.”

Merlin didn’t ask if she meant the sound of the door or the almost-kiss.

“So I was thinking,” he said slowly, cautiously. “That if you’re not busy next-”

“You know what we need?” Freya said suddenly, her eyes lighting with inspiration.

“…No?” Merlin frowned.

“We need more wine,” Freya declared, getting to her feet.

“Hey – we do?” Merlin scrambled to his feet, confused.

Freya grinned at him, the top of her face shadowed by the odd angle of the light. “Of course!” she said smoothly. “You wait here and I will go get some.”

“I could come with you, if you like?” Merlin asked, sounding almost timid.

Freya softened.

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice low and sweet. “Just – just close your eyes and count to a hundred. Like when we were playing hide and seek. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Okay …?” Merlin said dubiously.

“Go on then!” Freya encouraged him.

Giving a dramatic sigh, Merlin closed his eyes and then covered them with his hands.

“One … two … three …” he counted.

He heard the sound of light feet tripping up the stairs and away. He continued counting. About midway he thought he heard something but Freya didn’t come. When he finally reached a hundred, he opened his eyes.

“Freya?” he called out, looking around at the empty room.

There was no response.

Trying to ignore the tight feeling in his stomach, Merlin made his way towards the staircase.

“Freya?” he called again.

There was no response.

“Ready or not, here I come,” he muttered, and slowly began to make his way up the stairs, his stomach twisting in knots with every step.

He climbed and climbed and when he got to the top, that was when he saw it. He immediately recognised it for what it was. There, a little way on from the top step, was a bottle of red wine and a single wine glass. It may not have been a glass slipper, but its implications were obvious.

Trying not to succumb to the hole that was growing in his chest, he picked up the bottle and the glass. It was the same type of wine that Freya had been drinking earlier. Swallowing, Merlin grasped the bottle firmly by the neck, before allowing the wine glass to fall to the floor.

He stepped on its broken remains on his way out.

 

*

 

Merlin was miserable. And drunk. Drunkenly miserable. Miserably drunk. At any rate, he was far too drunk to figure out which one he was and what the difference was between them.

Gwen and Lance had left the day before for their honeymoon, taking the last of the sunlit days with them and leaving Merlin with the gloom and the rain. And so, having nothing else to do after work, Merlin did what he usually did when he was alone – he went to the pub.

He briefly toyed with the idea of calling Morgana but decided against it for now. He actually hadn’t spoken to her since the day of the wedding, at the reception where he’d had the first dance with her. He hadn’t been in the mood to really speak to anyone after he had returned – alone – from the basement and had wanted to slip out quietly. However, before he could, he had been accosted by Arthur.

“Merlin!” Arthur had beamed. “There you are, mate! I was wondering where you had got to! So tell me, how did it go?”

Merlin had grimaced and had not been able to help the look of misery that had come over him. Arthur’s face had immediately shuttered as he recognised Merlin’s expression.

“Oh you poor bastard,” he said softly. “Not again?”

Merlin had given a dry laugh and shrugged. Arthur sighed and pushed his hair out of his face.

“Right,” he had said. “You wait here,” and he went off to whisper something in some girl’s ear. Merlin then saw him go over to where Gwen and Lance were sitting and gesture in Merlin’s direction while making a drinking motion. Lance and Gwen laughed and waved at him, and then Arthur returned.

“Come on,” he had said, looping an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “Let’s get you home.” He had then driven Merlin back and had stayed by his side for the rest of the night, drinking companionably and thankfully not saying a word, something that Merlin was both surprised at and grateful for. Merlin had fallen asleep on the sofa and when he had woken up late the next morning, he had been covered with a blanket and there was a glass of water and some painkillers on the table next to him. It was only when Merlin had gratefully downed these that he noticed the small post-it note from Arthur. It had just three words on it: _Bros before hos_ , and was followed by a smiley face.

Merlin hadn’t seen Arthur since then. Lance, who had spent his wedding night with Gwen at her house, had dropped by a little later, and Merlin had helped him gather up his luggage to take with him on his honeymoon. He had then hugged and kissed Gwen and Lance goodbye and had waved their taxi off as they drove away to the airport. He had moped about for the rest of the evening but had taken care not to drink too much as he had work the next morning.

Now, however, he had finished work for the day and had been in dire need of alcohol and his mind had jumped to only one place. So he had sat there, in The Great Dragon, drinking a pint and miserably wondering what it was about him that was so unlovable and what it was that sent women running for the hills when he showed the first sign of interest in them. Needless to say, his mood did not improve.

He sat there, alone at the booth, watching the people walk in and out, happy and oblivious to all but themselves. He mentally snarled at all the couples that flaunted their happiness in front of his face. The bastards. He watched a pretty blonde girl walk by, turning heads as she went. _She_ probably had no trouble finding love. She probably even had a _fiancé_ or something. Or at least a boyfriend. Or – who knew? – a girlfriend? Merlin scowled and watched as a very handsome man with a scruffy beard and hair that seemed to be a walking shampoo advert approached the bar and ordered a pint. _He_ definitely had no trouble with women, if the looks he was garnering meant anything. _Or_ with men, Merlin mentally added, as he saw a few interested onlookers ogle the man’s tight-fitting jeans. Merlin was just about to sigh and look away when suddenly the man looked up and caught Merlin’s eye. Merlin was flustered for a moment but then the man smiled at him and Merlin couldn’t help but smile back, feeling strangely warm with the man’s gaze. The man, having received his pint, raised his glass to Merlin, a gesture which Merlin repeated as if in a trance.

“He’s good-looking! Friend of yours?” came a familiar voice and Merlin jerked his head away as Morgana appeared and sat herself down in the seat opposite.

“Oh – no!” Merlin said quickly, shaking his head. He glanced back towards the bar, but the handsome shampoo-advert man had disappeared. Merlin felt oddly disappointed for some reason that he didn’t want to pay too much attention to.

“Hmm,” Morgana hummed pensively, her eyes darting to look Merlin over. “If you say so. Now what’s up with you?”

“Hey?” Merlin asked, frowning, handsome-man forgotten.

“What’s up?” Morgana repeated, her eyes boring into Merlin. “Only I got a text from Arthur asking if you were okay, but I said that I hadn’t seen you since the wedding. Then I figured you were probably here, so here I am. And I repeat: what’s up with you? You’re – well, you’re slightly drunk, and you don’t usually drink so much when you have work the next day. So what is it? Is it that you think things will change between you and Lance and Gwen? ‘Cause they won’t, you know. Those guys were married way before they had an actual certificate confirming it.”

Merlin paused, wondering whether he should go with Morgana’s reason or tell her the truth. In the end, he decided for the latter; not only did he feel the need to share with someone, but also he knew that Morgana would figure out that he was lying in an instant and she would then proceed to torture the truth of him with her long, pointed nails if she had to.

Merlin opened his mouth but then he grimaced, and he looked down at the table, avoiding Morgana’s eyes.

“I – I met someone last night,” he finally said, reluctance clinging to the words.

There was silence and Merlin glanced up to see an almost fragile expression on Morgana’s face. Then the look was gone, leaving Merlin sure that he had imagined it.

“Oh?” Morgana asked, taking a sip of her drink. “And?”

Her eyes narrowed as Merlin didn’t answer, just fidgeted with his hands and avoided her gaze.

“And?” Morgana repeated, her voice almost coldly insistent.

Merlin stopped fidgeting but he still didn’t meet her gaze.

“And-” he whispered, swallowing. “I – I did it again.”

There was silence.

“What?” Morgana asked, her voice low and just a little bit off, something vulnerable flickering in her eyes. “What did you do again?”

 

**I later learned that Morgana wasn’t as completely over me as she had liked to make out. She revealed to me later that Gwen and Lance’s wedding had made her think things over and she had been reconsidering our relationship. She had even saved the last dance for me, but Arthur had already taken me home so that I could wallow in my misery. Morgana, not having known the reason, had been ever so slightly irritated and that was why she hadn’t contacted me after that, until Arthur had hinted that something was amiss.**

**And don’t worry. Oblivious as I was to her feelings at that very moment, she didn’t suffer for very long. She soon remembered that she was pretty damn amazing and didn’t need anyone after all, and it was just wedding sentimentality that had made her think so. She quickly went back to being happy, independent, and fantastic. And that, of course, was when she suddenly went and met someone who made her re-evaluate all that once more. But that’s another story.**

 

“I scared her off, Morg,” Merlin sighed. “I promised myself that it would never happen again after I did it with you … and then I go and do the same thing all over again!” He took another swig of his beer. “I’m pathetic. That’s why she ran away. I’m just pathetic.”

And that was when Arthur turned up and sat himself down next to Merlin, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“Hey! You’re not all pathetic!” he interjected stoutly, before ruining what might have been a solid friend gesture by adding. “You have _me_ as your best friend, after all. Anyone with me for a friend simply _can’t_ be wholly pathetic. Trufax.”

“You’re not my best friend, Lance is,” Merlin replied in a monotone. They had had this conversation many times before. Too many, in Merlin’s opinion.

“Hey don’t worry!” Arthur said with a smile and a wink. “Lance isn’t here right now. You can admit it. I won’t tell, promise!”

Merlin rolled his eyes but it was a half-hearted gesture.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, before returning to stare longingly at his empty beer glass.

Arthur frowned. He took off his sunglasses – and honestly, who wore sunglasses in the _evening_ on a rainy and gloomy day _indoors_? – and peered at Merlin in bemusement.

“What’s up with-” then his eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you’re still moping around after Fish Girl!”

“Don’t call her that!” Merlin snapped.

Arthur raised his hands as if in surrender.

“Hey, you were the one saying that she liked fish!” he said, looking full of self-righteousness.

“She’s a marine biologist!” Merlin glared at him. “At least – she wants to be one. She studied it at university but things are kind of competitive in that area, apparently, so she hasn’t really got any replies to any of her applications to work in the field and …”

“Oh dear god, here he goes again,” Arthur moaned under his breath – which wasn’t so much ‘under his breath’ as it was ‘out loud’.

“What?” Merlin’s nose wrinkled petulantly.

“You know,” Arthur made a vague gesture with his hand. “This is the part where you go on and on and on about a girl after you meet her, while the rest of us sit here nodding politely though in reality we’re wondering how many more beers will it take for you to pass out so we won’t have to hear about how _amazing_ Karen is for the eleven-hundredth time.”

“But Karen _was_ amazing!” Merlin protested. “She was a physicist! And we got on really well!”

“Yeah,” Morgana smirked. “Until she called out ‘Einstein!’ while you guys were having sex.”

“Yeah, that was amazing,” Arthur grinned, reminiscing.

“Oh, so you only pretend to listen to my stories but then you actually go and listen to _that_ one?” Merlin demanded.

“Hey, I _like_ sex stories!” Arthur protested as if his honour were at stake.

“I’m with him,” Morgana jerked her head in Arthur’s direction. “They’re the only stories about the girls you date that I can actually stand to listen to!”

“Oh, Morgana, you too?” Merlin asked sadly. Morgana merely shrugged.

“It is what it is, my friend,” she said.

Merlin’s face fell.

“Oh no,” he whispered. “Maybe I did that with Freya! Maybe that’s why she ran away – I was just going on and on and on and she couldn’t bear to listen to me anymore!”

“It sounds … plausible,” Arthur mused, only to yelp as Morgana whacked him on the shoulder.

“No, it doesn’t!” she hissed. She turned to Merlin. “Merlin, that isn’t what happened. You can’t seriously think that. You’re sweet and funny and I’m sure that she saw that. I mean – I saw that! You don’t think that I would have gone home with just anyone do you?”

“Hmm,” Arthur said, considering. “Well, you did go out with that Star Trek geek that one time …”

“I felt sorry for him!” Morgana snapped, before mumbling, “And it’s not my fault that the guy I ended up with was the one guy in the entire world who would put the nerds in _The Big Bang Theory_ to shame!”

“There _were_ clues though,” Arthur drawled, not bothering to hide his smirk. “For example, him wearing his Captain Kirk outfit to go on the pull was kind of a giveaway. At least, that’s what I thought.”

“Oh shut up,” Morgana growled, her cheeks red. She shook her head. “Anyway. The point is, Merlin, that you are lovely. Take it from someone who knows – that girl would not have left you unless she really had to.”

Merlin suddenly seemed to perk up.

“You really think so?” he asked eagerly.

“Yeah,” Morgana said softly. “I really do.”

Merlin turned to Arthur.

“What do you think?” he asked him, suddenly sounding curiously hesitant.

Arthur looked startled to have been asked. He glanced at Morgana and then back at Merlin, before sitting forward.

“You really want to know?” he asked, chewing his lip.

“Yes,” Merlin nodded.

Arthur sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “Well, firstly I think this whole thing is a mistake and I want to get it on record that I do not at all condone this relationship nonsense or people falling in love with each other after less than a night. But all that aside …” his mask of indifference dropped and he actually appeared to look serious. “I think that if this woman can truly make you happy – that if you know that – that she’s something special and that she really deserves you, then – then you should go and look for her. Get out there and find her.”

“ _What_?” Morgana practically spat out her drink before turning disbelieving eyes on Arthur, who was still focused wholly on Merlin.

“I – I should find her,” Merlin said slowly, turning the idea over in his mind. “I … should find her …” He sat up abruptly. “Guys – guys, I’m gonna find her!”

Morgana was staring at Merlin warily.

“Merlin,” she bit her lip. “Are you sure that this is a good idea?”

Merlin rounded on her.

“Of course I am!” he said adamantly. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well … there were a lot of guests,” Morgana started, chewing her lip. “And – it might be hard to find her, that’s all. I just – I don’t want you to be disappointed if no one can find her.”

“Is that a challenge?” Arthur’s face suddenly brightened and he looked around eagerly. “Because nothing is impossible for The Pendragon!”

“’The Pendragon’?” Morgana’s eyebrow rose and she did not look impressed.

Merlin snorted.

“It’s either that or ‘Big Pen’. If I were you, I’d stick with this one.”

“You remembered!” Arthur looked touched.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Merlin surveyed the pub. “Now if you will excuse me, I have a girl to find.”

And he stood up, only to start swaying alarmingly.

“…Which brings me to the second reason why you should rethink your plan,” Morgana said dryly, casting a critical eye over Merlin’s swaying form.

“Hmm, you may be right,” Merlin said, sitting back down. He sighed and laid his head in his arms before peeking up at Arthur and Morgana from under his hair. “Tomorrow then?”

Morgana and Arthur glanced at each other. Arthur shrugged and Morgana sighed.

“Very well then,” she said tiredly. “Tomorrow.”

 

*

Loath as he was to disturb Gwen and Lance on their honeymoon, Merlin decided that Operation Finding Freya was of optimum importance and thus he was allowed to disrupt all of the crazy honeymoon sex that he was sure that was going on. Gwen picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Gwen?”

“Merlin?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m not … _disturbing_ anything, am I?”

“Hm? Oh no. I was just making a cup of tea and Lance is reading the paper out on the balcony.”

“…Right. You _do_ know what a honeymoon is actually _for_ , right?”

“Don’t worry, Merlin, Lance and I have a thoroughly enjoyable sex life. And how are you doing?”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. I’m actually at the Dragon with Morgana and Arthur.”

“Oh that’s nice! Have a beer for me and Lance!”

“We’ll get right on that. Um … Gwen?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you a favour?”

“Oh Merlin. Is this about a girl?”

“Er … yes?”

“Typical. What do you want?”

“I was wondering – do you know a girl called Freya?”

“Freya? No, I don’t think so. Hold on, let me ask Lance … no, sorry, he doesn’t know a Freya either.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, Merlin! Was this why you were so gloomy the day before we left? Lance was so certain something was wrong! Hold on, he’s saying something … Oh, he says that you should check the guest list!”

“The guest list?”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m sure I have a copy somewhere. Morgana might have one.”

“We should have thought about that. Thanks Gwen!”

“Its fine, love. But don’t forget the people who aren’t officially on the guest list – like the caterers, the waiters, the band …”

“Right, will do. Thanks Gwen, you’re brilliant.”

“I know. Good luck finding her!”

“Thanks. You and Lance have a good honeymoon, you hear?”

“We’ll have lots of sex, yes. Goodbye, dear!”

_Click._

 

*

 

Morgana, Arthur and Merlin were setting the plan in motion; Operation Finding Freya was a go. Arthur was in charge of looking at the caterers and the band, Morgana was responsible for making her way through the guest list and asking after any plus ones who may have attended the wedding, and Merlin was in charge of the waiters and any other staff or employee that they could think of. Missions in hand, they all set off to investigate their lines of inquiry.

When Merlin finally walked into The Great Dragon at the end of the day, Arthur and Morgana were already there. He quickly walked over to them.

“Well?” he asked, sitting down. “Any luck?”

Both Arthur and Morgana grimaced.

“Sorry,” Morgana said, shaking her head. “No luck.”

“You?” Arthur asked.

Merlin clenched his hands.

“No,” he said softly. “No luck at all. No one’s heard of her.”

“Maybe you imagined her,” Arthur said sympathetically.

Merlin and Morgana stared at him.

“Huh?” Merlin asked, believing he had heard wrong.

“No, think about it,” Arthur said eagerly, leaning forward. “You’re at a wedding, you’re all alone, you’re wishing that it was you who was getting married – and then all of a sudden _boom_! This beautiful girl appears out of nowhere and she’s _perfect_! She’s fun and cute and sweet and all of those other silly things you seem to like in women. She actually _likes_ listening to you drone on and on about buildings – that’s a clue there, if I ever saw one! And then, at the end of the night, she vanishes! It’s _obvious_! You made her up! She’s your Imaginary Girlfriend!”

“Hmm,” Merlin mused. “You make a good case.”

Arthur puffed his chest out proudly.

“There’s just one tiny little problem with that theory …”

“What’s that?” Arthur demanded.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Merlin’s voice turned cold. “Maybe the fact that you actually _saw_ her?”

Arthur’s face fell.

“Oh. Oh yeah. That.”

“Yeah, _that_ ,” Merlin snorted, looking away, trying to hide how upset he was. The truth was, he himself had actually begun to think that Freya was completely imaginary as well.

“Tell us again how you met her,” Morgana said patiently, reaching over and holding Merlin’s hand in sympathy. “There may be something we overlooked … some clue she gave that we missed …”

“There isn’t,” Merlin said grumpily, but he obliged anyway. He did enjoy telling stories like this. He started with the end of the wedding toasts, and spoke about how he had wandered off to look at the in-wall aquariums. He was just about to start talking about how they were going to dance, when Arthur looked up.

“Hold on,” he said, frowning. “Go back a bit.”

“Back where?” Merlin asked, his forehead creased.

“Back to the part with the fish,” Arthur said.

Merlin let out a noise of impatience.

“For the last time, Arthur, I will _not_ have you call her Fish Girl!”

“You can’t stop me,” Arthur waved him off. “Now tell me about the part with the fish!”

Merlin rolled his eyes and began to tell that part all over again.

“… and I said that I’d never met a marine biologist before, and she blushed and said that she wasn’t actually one at the moment and that she was doing something a lot more small scale, and then I said-”

“There!” Arthur said, with a look of triumph.

“What?” Merlin frowned.

“Yeah, what?” Morgana’s brow creased as she looked between the two of them.

Arthur looked at them both and deflated slightly when he realised that they hadn’t caught on.

“She’s not a marine biologist,” he said in an exaggeratedly slow voice. “She’s doing something on a ‘smaller scale’ – that means that _she works with fish_.”

Merlin and Morgana both stared at him.

“Arthur,” Merlin said after a moment. “Arthur, that’s _brilliant_!”

Arthur preened.

“No, really! It makes perfect sense! She’ll work with fish!” Merlin paused. “What do you reckon she does?”

“I dunno,” Arthur shrugged. “Maybe she’s a fishmonger.”

Merlin stared at him dubiously.

“A … fishmonger?” he said doubtfully.

“Sure,” Arthur shrugged. “It’s to do with fish, right?”

“ _Dead_ fish,” Morgana interjected.

Arthur shrugged again.

“Fish is fish,” he said nonchalantly. “Think back – did she smell fishy at all?”

“Did she sm- no, you idiot, no! She didn’t! Not at all!”

“I’m only asking!” Arthur said huffily. “There’s really not all that many options out there, you know.”

Merlin deflated.

“Maybe it was a sushi bar,” Arthur said kindly. “Sushi bars aren’t so bad, right?”

“It’s still dead fish,” Merlin muttered unhappily. “And I don’t like sushi.”

“Neither do I mate,” Arthur clapped a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “But I’ll stomach it if I need to – some chicks absolutely love the stuff!”

“You two are missing the obvious solution,” Morgana said with a sigh. They both turned to look at her. “Now let’s see. What sort of place deals with living fish?”

“Er … a river?” Merlin asked stupidly.

Morgana threw him a withering look that seemed to silently express her disbelief that she had ever found him attractive.

“No. I meant an _aquarium_.”

“Oh!” Both Arthur and Merlin blinked.

“Or some sort of pet shop that sells fish, I’m not really sure,” Morgana said with an elegant shrug before sitting back.

“Right!” Merlin was suddenly infused with a new burst of energy. “Right, so what we do is we look up all the aquariums and pet shops near here and then we-”

“Merlin,” Morgana cut him off. She gave him an apologetic look. “Merlin, London has lots of pet shops and aquariums. And who is to say that she is from London at all? She could be from anywhere in England. We might even be wrong about the pet shop thing. We might even be wrong about the whole fish idea!”

Merlin was frowning.

“So what are you saying?” he asked slowly, knowing but not wanting to admit that Morgana was right.

Morgana looked pained to have to say it but she soldiered on.

“I’m saying,” she said gently. “That this might just be … foolish.”

Merlin stared at her.

“Foolish,” he said.

 

**Now, what I said here was not particularly nice, and looking back, I am slightly ashamed of how I reacted here, especially now that I know how Morgana felt back then. Still, you have to admit – it’s one hell of a speech, if I say so myself.**

 

“Foolish,” he repeated.

“Merlin, I mean that with all-”

“You guys-”

“Foolish,” Merlin said again. “ _Foolish_. Well, forgive me Morgana, if I don’t take the advice of a woman who is too _scared_ of her own _feelings_ to ever want to take a step towards what might be a real and true love. Do I know that it’s _foolish_ to go looking for Freya when she might have sprung out of the middle of a lake, for all I know? Yes, I do. Do I think it’s a long-shot? Yes, I do. Do I care? Well – yes, I do. I know that the chances of my finding her at this point are slim to none but I also know that if I don’t go out there and at least try to find her, then I will spend the rest of my life wondering and I will never be happy. Now, _you_ may be happy with letting love pass you by, but I’m sure as hell not. I believe with all my heart that Freya can make me happy, and I am going to bloody well do everything I can to find her so that that has every chance of someday happening. So, if I have to be _foolish_ in the process? So be it!”

Morgana’s eyes were fixed solely on her hands, which were folded in her lap. She didn’t look anywhere else.

“You’re right,” she said at last, in a small, subdued voice. “About everything. I’m sorry.”

Merlin opened his mouth before snapping it shut. He made a slightly distressed noise and ran a hand through his hair.

“God, Morgana,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, I – I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that – you were only trying to help me. I’m so sorry! I have no right to criticise your choices – you’re doing what’s best for you and I should respect that. I’m sorry.”

Morgana glanced up at that and threw Merlin a weak smile.

“It’s okay,” she said quietly, holding his gaze, before shaking her head and sitting up straighter. “So,” she said in a stronger voice. “Let’s see if Old Kilgharrah has a phone book behind that bar of his.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were all sat crowded around a copy of the Yellow Pages, beers in hand and eyes scrutinising the pet shop adverts. Or at least, that’s what Merlin and Morgana were doing. Arthur was just sitting there, happily sipping at his beer.

“Guys,” Merlin said after a moment, his eyes dragging down through the list. “You were right. This is hopeless. There are too many places! We’re never going to find her!”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Morgana muttered, her nose almost pressed to the page as she scanned through the book and circled the ones that looked likely to sell fish. “I don’t care if we have to call every single one of these damn pet shops, Merlin, we’re going to find her for you.”

Merlin pulled back and gave Morgana a look full of sincere affection.

“Thank you,” he murmured, stroking the back of her head once, very gently. Morgana looked up at him and this time neither of them tore their gaze away.

“I don’t actually think that will be necessary,” Arthur’s voice drifted in, ending the moment.

“Oh?” Morgana turned and arched an eyebrow at him. “You have an idea, I suppose?”

“I do, actually,” Arthur said loftily. “Beer helps me think.”

Merlin and Morgana shared a look.

“I’ve been thinking,” Arthur continued. “That we’ve been overlooking something really important.”

“Oh yeah?” Merlin asked. “What?”

“Elementary, my dear wingman,” Arthur reached over and ruffled Merlin’s hair. “We’ve been overlooking the most important question of all: _what was she doing there at Gwen and Lance’s wedding_?”

Merlin and Morgana both frowned.

“I thought ….”

“Wasn’t she just …”

Neither of them finished their sentences.

“Aha!” Arthur smirked. “Just as I thought. No idea. But think about it. Fish Gir- Freya works with fish. She was in the reception building. The reception building has a built-in aquarium. An aquarium houses fish … are you getting the drift here?”

Merlin’s eyes were wide. Even Morgana looked impressed.

“Oh my god,” Merlin breathed. “She was there for the fish! Freya was there for the fish!” He leapt up out of his seat, ready to charge off.

“Whoa where are you going?”

Merlin stopped and turned back, impatiently.

“I’m going to …” he trailed off.

“Exactly,” Morgana said smugly. “You weren’t thinking. Now sit down and think this through.” Merlin did as he was told and sat back down.

Arthur then, surprisingly, took over.

“Now, the building will be closed right now, so we can’t actually do anything about that,” he said, suddenly sounding completely different from the laid-back womaniser that he usually appeared to be. Morgana and Merlin listened intently. “But Merlin – you helped to arrange to have the reception at that place?” Merlin nodded. “Right, so you will have their contact details. Tomorrow morning, you call them up and ask them about their fish exhibit or built-in aquarium or whatever it is, and you ask them where they obtained it from and who is in charge of it. With any luck, they will either direct us to a company or give us the name of the person in charge of arranging for the fish to be fed. We’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed that the name that comes up is ‘Freya’.”

Merlin gazed at Arthur in something akin to awe, hope beaming from his eyes.

“I could kiss you right now,” he declared, his eyes shining.

Arthur’s business persona fled and he leaned back and smirked.

“Then go right ahead,” he purred lazily. “I sure wouldn’t object!”

Merlin rolled his eyes and shook his head with a smile.

“Silly,” he tutted and gave Arthur’s shoulder a gentle shove.

Arthur looked slightly disappointed for a moment but he quickly bounced back with a grin.

“Thank you,” Merlin then said, his voice quiet and serious. “I know that I’ve been a bit of a pain, and that you two have much better things to do than to go hunting for some woman that you don’t even know, but I want you to know that I – I really appreciate it, and – and thank you.”

“Well,” Arthur said after a moment. “I suppose you _are_ my wingman, after all …”

“I suppose,” Merlin grumbled good-naturedly, resigned to his post, as Morgana gave his hand a friendly squeeze.

“And I _am_ your best friend, at that, so it _would_ be up to me to save the day …”

This time Merlin didn’t have the heart to correct him.

*

 

“Are you ready?” Morgana asked him, fussing with his coat. She appeared to be almost as nervous as Merlin was.

“Yeah,” Merlin replied, though his mouth was dry.

“You’ll do fine,” Arthur was cool and calm. He grasped Merlin by the shoulders. “Now go in there and get her!”

Merlin gave them a brisk nod before steeling his courage and pushing the door to the Trevor Bastet Pet Shop open.

“Hello?” he called, walking over towards the empty front desk. He had made the phone call earlier that morning and had discovered that the reception building had a long-term contract with this very pet shop to feed and look after the fish for them. He had told Arthur and Morgana this and they had immediately jumped in the nearest taxi and had driven all the way over to the pet shop. “Is anyone there?”

There was a small noise, and a man came out from behind the curtain that led to the backroom.

“Good afternoon!” the man beamed. “How can I help you?”

“Er,” Merlin wasn’t sure how to begin. “Do you – I mean, are you the one that looks after the fish in the Mosby building?”

The man’s face brightened.

“Why yes, we are!” he said cheerfully. “It’s a wonderful bit of construction, don’t you think?”

“Oh yes!” Merlin was happy to be on familiar ground. “I mean, some people might say that the stonework is a little over-elaborate, but I personally like the mouldings and the …” He trailed off as he realised that the man was looking at him blankly.

“Er,” the man said awkwardly. “I meant the in-wall aquariums.”

“Oh,” Merlin said. “Oh. Well. Those are good too! Very – _inventive_. Ingenious! Really – really great!”

“Hmm.” The man narrowed his eyes. “What did you say that you wanted?”

“Oh, um – well, you see, I was at a reception there a few days ago …”

“Yes?”

“And there was – I was – I was interested in – in knowing who looked after the fish.”

“Hmmm,” the man looked at Merlin over the top of his glasses. “Well, that would be us.”

“Yes,” Merlin fidgeted. “I sort of figured that bit out. I was just wondering – who in _particular_.”

“You were, were you, young man?” the shopkeeper scrutinised Merlin sternly for a moment before breaking out into a smile. “And well you might. We have a young lady who does an admirable job. If you will wait here for a moment, I will go and get her.”

Merlin nodded, unable to speak as the man went back behind the curtain. This was it. He was going to find her. After all the searching and trouble, he was going to find her. He held his breath.

“Here she is!” the man announced, walking back into the room. He held the curtain up so that the girl coming in after him could enter with ease, and Merlin opened his mouth –

And saw that she was a redhead sporting a pixie cut.

He deflated.

“Yes?” the girl asked him curiously. “You wanted to see me?”

“Oh,” Merlin could barely speak. He needed a drink. Fast. “Right. I just – I wanted to say – er – well done on doing such a – erm – such a good job with the Mosby building. It was – it was memorable.”

“Oh,” the girl said, frowning. “er – thank you?”

Merlin huffed out a dry, humourless laugh.

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbled and with a brief nod at the owner, he made his way out of the shop.

The girl stared after him in confusion for a moment, frowning. Then her eyes widened and she fled into the backroom with great haste.

“So?” Arthur and Morgana were waiting outside with great impatience. “Did you find her?”

Merlin gave a bitter laugh.

“No,” he replied. “And I never will. Now let’s go and get drunk and never talk about this again.”

Arthur and Morgana exchanged hesitant glances but agreed and followed Merlin away.

They had walked just a few dozen yards ahead when they heard a noise behind them and suddenly someone was calling out “Merlin!” at the top of their voice.

“Merlin! _Merlin_!”

Merlin froze. Slowly, so very slowly, he turned around.

And there she was, standing just a few feet away.

Freya.

Merlin swallowed. He opened his mouth to tell her of how he was angry that she had left him, that he had searched high and low for her, that he had almost given up hope –

But then Freya let out a helpless little sob and the next thing that they knew, they were in each others arms, kissing, and it was like the whole world had stopped and there was nothing but him and her, standing there, kissing.

… Though in the background there was the noise of a certain annoying prat punching his fist in the air and smugly declaring himself “Better than bloody Sherlock!” but, Merlin reflected, that was the one way that he absolutely knew that he wasn’t imagining this.

So he just closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment.

 

*

 

A week later, Gwen and Lance were back from their honeymoon, Merlin and Freya were very firmly a couple, and Morgana and Arthur were really quite tired of being surrounded by lovey-dovey doe eyed couples all of the time.

“Oh please get a room!” Arthur groaned, trapped in the booth between both Gwen and Lance as well as Merlin and Freya.

“Preferably separate ones,” Morgana muttered, looking just as ill as Arthur did at the disgusting display.

Gwen and Lance, who were very much used to being told this, merely ignored them and continued kissing and staring besottedly at each other. Merlin and Freya, however, being relatively new to this, immediately separated.

“Sorry,” Merlin said, grinning stupidly and looking like he didn’t mean a word of it.

Freya smiled bashfully, a blush on her cheeks. She and Merlin had been spending a great deal of time together. After being reunited at the pet shop, she and Merlin had gone for a long walk through the park where she had explained that the reason that she had run off that night had been because she had actually had a boyfriend at that point and had felt horribly guilty for enjoying being with Merlin so much. The relationship had been failing for a long time but both she and the boyfriend had been reluctant to let go; it had been good while it had lasted and they both still cared for the other – that was what had made Freya feel even worse about that evening with Merlin. She wasn’t the sort of girl who would ever cheat. However, being with Merlin had made her realise just how much she was missing by not letting go, so the very next day after Gwen and Lance’s wedding, she had gone and spoken to her boyfriend, and had finally broken up with him.

Freya was then faced with the fact that she had been monumentally stupid in running away from Merlin like that, and she had tried to resign herself to the fact that she would never meet him again. That hadn’t stopped her from moping though, and her co-worker, Irene – the one that was supposed to have been at the Mosby building on the night of the wedding but had begged Freya to take her place as she had a hot date that night – had immediately figured out that something was bothering her. After a little prodding, Freya had revealed everything to Irene and they had both sighed over how romantic it was. When Merlin had walked into the pet shop, Irene had been confused for only a second before running to the backroom to get Freya. And the rest, of course, was history.

Now they all sat comfortably together at their favourite booth in The Great Dragon, sipping their drinks and chatting. Freya, after her initial shyness, had fit right in and Gwen and Lance had taken an instant liking to her.

“You two are so great together!” Gwen gushed, her eyes all dewy as she took in Merlin and Freya. “And to think that you met at our wedding! And the story is just so romantic – it’s just like _Cinderella_ , isn’t it, Lance?” Lance nodded dutifully and added something about fairytales and True Love. “I _am_ glad. Lance and I were so worried that Merlin wouldn’t get over his thing with Morgana.”

Merlin winced as he felt Freya tense up next to him. His eyes flickered over to Morgana who grimaced in sympathy.

“You – you had a thing with Morgana?” Freya asked hesitantly, obviously uncomfortable at having to have this conversation amidst strangers.

Merlin gave a nervous laugh.

“It was more like I had a thing _for_ Morgana,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair sheepishly. “Nothing happened and it didn’t go anywhere – we’re just good friends now.”

“It’s true,” Morgana nodded, her eyes flickering momentarily over at Merlin. “Nothing happened, and nothing ever will.”

“Oh,” Freya said, feeling a bit better about it.

“If there’s anyone you need worry about, it’s _me_!” Arthur preened, shooting Merlin a smug, teasing look. “In case you hadn’t realised, I’m pretty damn irresistible. Merlin’s going to succumb to my charms any day now. You just wait!”

Merlin rolled his eyes.

“For the millionth time, Arthur, it’s not going to happen – I’m _straight_!”

Arthur just gave him a look of smug superiority before returning to his pastime of people watching. Which is to say, his pastime of looking for the person most likely to let him into their pants for the night.

“You honestly have nothing to worry about,” Morgana said earnestly, trying to reassure Freya some more.

“Absolutely!” Gwen chimed in helpfully. “Merlin and Morgana are just friends now. You know, back at uni, this guy,” she jerked her thumb at Merlin. “Had the _biggest_ crush on me?”

Everyone stared. Even Arthur was pulled away from his people-watching.

“Er … what?” Merlin asked, blinking.

“ _You_ know,” Gwen nodded and winked at him. “You had that big crush on me!”

Merlin threw Lance a bemused glance, but Lance was suddenly looking very solemn.

“Um … Gwen – no I didn’t.”

“ _Sure_ you didn’t,” Gwen said with a knowing look. She turned to Lance. “Don’t worry, love, this is before you and I got together.”

“Gwen, _what_ was before you and Lance got together?” Merlin asked, perplexed.

Gwen gave Merlin a cool look.

“Oh _fine_ ,” she finally said with a huff. “Go ahead and pretend it didn’t happen! We both know the truth!” She ignored Merlin’s baffled expression and turned to the others. “Here’s what happened. It was back in our first year at uni …”

 

_March 2001_

“Shhhh!” Gwen giggled drunkenly as she tried to shush Merlin. They had just been to a party and had got spectacularly drunk together and were now trying to make their way back to their rooms. Lance had had an essay due so he hadn’t gone with them, instead giving them his blessing to go and enjoy themselves without him. Which is precisely what they had gone and done.

Though perhaps, Gwen reflected as she looked at Merlin lying half unconscious on the park bench next to her, they had enjoyed themselves a bit too much.

“Merlin, be quiet!” Gwen hushed him again as Merlin began to start moaning unintelligibly. “It’s _late_!”

“Ungh,” Merlin replied, jerking his hips. “Ugh, Gwen, _faster_!”

Gwen stared.

“Merlin, are you …?” she trailed off into surprised giggles as Merlin gave another loud moan of “Gwennnn!”

She was giggling happily to herself, when she felt something pulling her down horizontally, and the next thing she knew, her mouth was pressed firmly against Merlin’s, and they were _kissing_. Merlin let out a muffled groan at the contact and pushed up against her. She was pretty sure that there were tongues involved, as well.

Pleasant as she was sure it was, she knew what she had to do.

“Merlin,” she said gently, extricating herself from his drunken embrace. “Merlin – flattered as I am, I _really_ don’t think that this is a good idea. Firstly, you’re _very_ drunk, and I’m not too steady on my feet either. And secondly – well, I think you should know – I have … _feelings_ for Lance. Or at least I think I do. At any rate, I don’t want to jeopardise my relationship with him. You understand, don’t you?”

Merlin stared up at her, his brow creased with sorrow, and she felt a pang as she knew that she had upset him. She was about to say something more about how she was sure that one day he would find the perfect woman, when Merlin gave an odd little croaking sound and his head fell back, his eyes shut. When Gwen checked, she realised that he was out cold.

“Come on then, sleepyhead,” Gwen had murmured, and shouldering him, she had towed them both back to their residence halls.

The next morning had been awkward, yes, but it was soon forgotten in the affection that had grown into an even more solid friendship, and neither of them had ever mentioned the incident to this very day.

 

_Back to April 2008_

“I’m sorry, Merlin,” Gwen apologised as the others stared at them in shock. “But I had to tell them – they should know. I mean, it’s not as if it means anything now, does it?”

Merlin made a strangled noise in his throat.

“Don’t worry,” Gwen patted Merlin’s hand. “You’ll feel better now that it’s all out in the open. I know that _I_ do.”

Merlin stopped blinking stupidly and sat up at that.

“Gwen,” he said slowly, anxiously. “Sweetheart – you _do_ know that’s not how it went right?”

Gwen frowned.

“What do you mean?” she demanded. “That’s _exactly_ what happened that night!”

“Um,” Merlin bit his lip. “Not quite …”

 

_What really happened in March 2001_

 

Merlin stared curiously at Gwen as she lolled about on the bench, giggling drunkenly to herself. He winced as her giggling morphed into loud, full-blown laughter.

“Shhhh!” he hissed at her. “Gwen, _shhhhh_!”

“Shhhhhh!” Gwen imitated him, shushing him back. “Shhhhhhhhhh!”

Merlin groaned and went and sat down on the bench, next to where Gwen was lying half on, half off of it. He had made sure not to drink too much at the party; Lance was usually the responsible one (or at least the one best able to handle his liquor) between the three of them, so most of the time Merlin didn’t bother to restrain himself. Tonight, however, Lance was busy finishing up an essay in the library and he had particularly asked Merlin to keep an eye on Gwen at the party – they all knew what she was like once she had a few martinis in her.

He winced as Gwen shuffled up closer to him on the bench, cackling wickedly, her breath smelling like she had imbibed an entire liquor store.

“Merrrliiiiiiiiiiiiin!” she sniggered, leaning dangerously on him, nearly pushing him off the bench.

“Ugh!” Merlin wrinkled his nose and shoved Gwen away with his entire body. “Ugh, Gwen, you’re wasted!”

Gwen suddenly went still and stared at him.

“Merlin,” she whispered. “Merlin, are you …?” She started giggling again, the giggling soon erupting into more raucous laughter.

“Gwen!” Merlin moaned, trying to shush her and keep her from tipping over and off the bench at the same time. Gwen’s limbs flailed all over the place, catching Merlin around the face, causing him to wince and pull back. Unfortunately, Gwen’s flailing limbs were somehow caught up in his, so he ended up pulling her, and they both fell flat against the seat of the bench, Gwen on top of Merlin.

Merlin’s breath had been knocked out of him, so he prepared to take a deep breath to fill his lungs. To his horror, instead of fresh, clean air, he inhaled strong alcoholic fumes and he almost choked when he realised that Gwen’s face was right _there_. He sputtered but didn’t have time to do much else as Gwen’s mouth was suddenly on his and – oh dear god – was that her _tongue_ pushing in there? Panicking, he pushed at her, trying to shove her off.

When he finally got himself out from under her, tripping in the process, he turned to face her, wondering what the hell he should say now.

“Er – Gwen,” he said awkwardly, trying to be serious and firm in the face of Gwen’s giggly drunkenness. “Gwen – flattered as I am and all that, I _really_ don’t think that this is a good idea. I mean, I don’t – you’re very pretty and all, but I don’t – I just don’t feel that way about you. Also, you’re drunk. _Very_ drunk. You’re practically paralytic, to be honest. And finally, I think – well, I’m actually pretty sure, really – I think that you have … _feelings_ for Lance. Pretty strong ones. And he feels the same for you. I don’t want to get in the way of that. He’s my best mate, you know? The best one I’ve ever had. I don’t want to jeopardise that. You understand, don’t you?”

Gwen stared up at him, her brow creased with confusion. Merlin was about to babble some more when she gave an odd little croaking sound and her head fell back against the bench, her eyes shut. When Merlin checked, he realised that she was out cold.

“Come on then, sleepyhead,” Merlin murmured, and shouldering her weight, he had towed them both back to their residence halls.

The next morning had been awkward. _Really_ awkward. Gwen had given him an odd look, but had then proceeded to stay silent about the whole thing. Following her lead, Merlin did the same. When Lance and Gwen had got together and Gwen still hadn’t said anything, Merlin considered the incident forgotten. Anyway, he was sure, any other feelings that Gwen might have harboured for him paled into comparison to what she felt for Lance and Merlin was certain that there was nothing between him and Gwen but the greatest and strongest of friendships. Still, as she never brought the incident up, he didn’t feel the need to do so either, and so neither of them had ever mentioned the incident ever again.

 

_Back to April 2008_

This time there was again a silence around the table, but now people were staring at a bright red and gaping Gwen.

“B-but!” she gasped. “That wasn’t – are you _sure_ that was it?”

Merlin gave her an apologetic smile.

“Afraid so,” he said ruefully, and Gwen buried her head in her arms.

Lance was looking particularly tragic, his face the expression of true wounded suffering.

“Lance?” Merlin asked hesitantly, holding tightly onto Freya’s fingers.

Lance slowly turned his head towards Merlin, who winced as he realised that Lance didn’t seem to be on quite the same page as the rest of them. The enthusiasm with which he had drained his pint while the story was being told probably didn’t help either.

“It’s okay, Merlin,” he said with a small sigh. “There’s no need to worry yourself. I forgive you. I know how irresistible Gwen is – you are not to blame yourself.”

Merlin, Freya, Arthur and Morgana all stared at him. Lance _clearly_ had selective hearing if _that_ was what he was taking away from Merlin’s story.

Lance turned his gaze on Gwen, who was peeking up from under her arms.

“But you Gwen!” Lance’s face looked tortured. “You … I am – shocked. Yes, _shocked_. You _kissed_ Merlin! You kissed my best friend! I-” his face crumpled slightly. “I’m not sure I know what to think, now!”

Gwen jerked her head out of her arms in alarm.

“But sweetheart, this was before we were even together!”

“Yeah, Lance,” Merlin interjected. “She was drunk! You can’t blame her!”

“We all know how girls get when they’re drunk!” Arthur added his own brand of support to the argument. “They become easy! It’s not Gwen’s fault! It’s just her natural reaction to being drunk and horny!”

Everyone at the table, including Freya, threw Arthur a withering glare.

“They’re right, Lance,” Morgana added, reaching over and squeezing Lance’s hand. “You know that Gwen’s an affectionate drunk! Hell, when she’s had a few martinis in her she starts trying to kiss _me_! Merlin must have been fair game!”

Lance looked down at the table while Gwen’s face went crimson and she started stammering. Arthur’s face was creased in thoughtfulness, as if trying to debate how best to sneak Gwen a martini and how many it would take for her to start groping Morgana.

“I don’t know,” Lance said at last, looking very much like a little boy. He finally raised his head and sighed, his anger receding as he looked up into an anxious Gwen’s eyes. “I just – I just really liked the feeling that I was your first kiss, that’s all.”

Gwen looked concerned.

“Sweetie,” she said cautiously. “You do know that I’d kissed other men even _before_ Merlin, right? Back at school?”

Lance’s head darted up and his mouth became a grim line. The others all winced and glared at Gwen for upsetting him and shattering his romantic illusions.

“I-I mean,” Gwen stuttered, but Lance looked away.

“I will hear no more,” he said, swallowing painfully and displaying a dramatic martyred expression on his face that had everyone at the table – except for Gwen and Freya – exchange amused glances. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. There’s no need to say anything further. Really.”

Morgana rolled her eyes and Arthur snorted and went back to people-watching. Merlin took a long draught of his drink, while Freya watched the scene with morbid fascination.

“But, Lance – sweetheart!” Gwen was protesting, her mouth turning down.

Lance resolutely turned his head away, a look of noble suffering on his face. Finally, Gwen got tired of it. She leaned forward and grasped Lance by the jaw and firmly pulled him around to face her.

“Look here, you big jealous fool,” she said sternly. “I know that you had some glorious and perfect illusion of me as some chaste, virtuous maiden locked up in some high tower who had never so much as looked at a boy before. But sweetie, that was just an illusion. It wasn’t _me_. You can’t honestly tell me that you never kissed a girl before!” Lance winced and looked slightly ashamed at that but Gwen ignored him and continued. “But I don’t mind, because at the end of the day, you are here with me and we are married. And for what it’s worth, I may have kissed a handful of boys before you, but you were the _only_ one that has ever mattered!”

Lancelot’s eyes instantly misted over.

“Oh Gwen,” he sighed. “Me too. You’re the only one that I have ever cared for.”

“I love you,” Gwen’s gaze was full of hope and love.

“I love you too,” Lance looked, a soft smile on his face.

The other four at the table turned away with identical grimaces as Gwen and Lance started to kiss all over again.

“Ugh,” Merlin shook his head. “This brings back memories of uni, all right! And that was years ago! They shouldn’t be able to be this ridiculously lovey-dovey by now! I mean honestly, me and Freya only just got together and even _we’re_ not that sickening!”

Arthur let out a snort.

“Oh _really?_ ” he asked, eyeing Merlin challengingly.

 

_One week ago, in the taxi back from the pet shop_

 

“I can’t believe I found you.” Merlin’s voice was full of awe and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Freya.

Arthur, who was unfortunately next to the cooing couple in the back seat, met Morgana’s eyes through the rear-view mirror. Her expression mirrored his – one of amusement crossed with oncoming nausea.

“ _I_ can’t believe you found me!” Freya’s eyes were glued to Merlin’s face, and she sighed happily. “This is just like a fairytale come true.”

“And _you_ are just like a real princess,” Merlin murmured, brushing his nose against hers.

Up in the front seat, Morgana imitated a gagging noise.

“And you are my handsome prince,” Freya ran her hand through Merlin’s hair tenderly.

“It was Destiny that led me to you,” Merlin said passionately, his eyes intent and serious.

Arthur felt like smashing his head into the glass barrier in front of him. He was seriously regretting agreeing to take the taxi back with the others. If only Morgana hadn’t practically dived into the front seat. The cow. She had probably foreseen the vomit-inducing display that Merlin and Freya would put on.

Dear god, but Merlin really was a _girl_!

“I knew it,” Freya whispered. “I knew that we couldn’t have met by chance. I knew it the moment that I saw you.”

“And now we’re together,” Merlin seemed to be on the brink of ecstasy. Or maybe he had just ingested some. It would certainly account for his frankly _pathetic_ behaviour, Arthur thought.

“Together,” Freya whispered, taking Merlin’s hand.

And then they started to kiss.

Arthur closed his eyes, groaned and put his arms over his head.

His faith in his path as a confirmed bachelor was once more renewed.

 

_Back to April 2008_

Merlin fidgeted before looking over at Freya sheepishly.

“I guess we got a little carried away,” he said with a shy grin, which Freya returned with one of her own.

“A _little_?” Morgana snorted. “I was half ready to gouge my eyes out with a spoon.”

They continued to bicker in a friendly manner for some more time, until Freya, thinking it best to change the subject, turned to Arthur.

“So, Arthur,” she said, sipping politely from her drink. “You’re Arthur Pendragon, right? Son of Uther Pendragon?”

“Yeah,” Arthur answered. “I am.”

Everyone froze.

“What?” Gwen, Morgana, Merlin and Lance all gasped at the same time.

Freya and Arthur turned to them with a frown.

“ _What_?” Arthur asked with a slight scowl.

“ _You’re_ Uther Pendragon’s son?” Merlin demanded.

“Yes,” Arthur answered, his brow creased.

“The same Uther Pendragon who is a certified billionaire?” Morgana’s eyes were wide.

“Multi-billionaire to be precise, but yeah, that’s the one,”

“The same Uther Pendragon who is the head of that greedy multinational conglomerate of banks that robs the poor and feeds the rich, is environmentally hazardous, and ethically practically _poisonous_?” Lance demanded, his eyes narrowing fiercely.

Arthur gave a shrug.

“What can I say?” he said in reply before regarding all of them with a puzzled expression. “Do you mean to say that you didn’t _know_?”

The others all gaped at him.

“No, of _course_ we didn’t know!” Morgana snapped. “It’s not like you ever saw fit to mention it!”

“I thought you knew!” Arthur looked genuinely perplexed. “I mean – my _name_! There’s hardly going to be many people running around London with the name ‘Pendragon’ … though hold on, actually there may be – father is a bit of a womaniser …” He waggled his eyebrows in a rather disconcerting manner.

The others all looked at each other, grimacing as they realised that none of them had ever really thought about it.

“Really?” Arthur demanded, looking almost hurt – particularly when his gaze fell on Merlin. “ _None_ of you? Honestly, I don’t even – you didn’t even put two and two together when you realised that I worked for him?”

“Wait, you _work_?!” Morgana asked in utter astonishment.

Arthur stared.

Another bout of silence fell as the others shifted in their seats and avoided all eye contact.

Arthur’s mouth thinned out.

“Well, _thanks,_ ” he said, hurt warring with disbelief on his face. He started to push his way out of the booth, practically crawling over the table in his desire to leave. “Now I know how much I _really_ mean to you all. No, don’t even bother!” he practically snarled at Gwen when she opened her mouth to apologise. “Obviously I’m not as valued a member of this group as I thought.” He looked at Merlin. “Oh, and by the way? You’re the world’s _worst_ wingman!” And with that epic insult, he turned around and left.

Silence followed in his wake.

“I am so, so sorry,” Freya said at last, looking mortified. “I should never have said anything!”

Merlin shook his head.

“It’s not your fault,” he assured her. “It’s ours. I can’t believe we never knew about his father!”

“I’ll say!” Lance said agitatedly. “His father runs _P &G_ – Britain’s richest and most unethical private bank! I can’t believe that he never mentioned that before!”

 

**Now, before you judge Lance on his apparent hardheartedness, you should know that he was well justified in acting this way. Lance is, as everyone knows, a warm and cuddly humanitarian at heart and it has always been his dream to save the world one polar bear at a time. P &G’s dream, on the other hand, is to ensure that all polar bears end up on the floors of their mansions as exotic fur rugs. Let me explain.**

**P &G – or the _Pendragon and Gorlois International Bank Plc_ was one of the richest and most influential banks around, raking in millions daily and sending a least half of that to its board of directors, a bunch of fat cats who sat around smoking Cuban cigars and playing golf all day. They had a reputation for being ruthless and selfish, doing what was best for themselves and their rich investors, and stepping on and crushing the little guys. In other words, they symbolised everything that Lance hated. To learn that one of his closest friends was also the son of the worst of them all, doubtless came as a bit of shock to him.**

**Uther Pendragon was the CEO of the bank, a reportedly terrifying man who made his employees quail and quiver in their seats. Gorlois had been his closest friend and they had started the bank together, only for Uther to inherit it all when Gorlois had later died from a heart attack. Since then, Uther had ruled the company with an iron fist and was now one of the richest men in the world. He was apparently also the meanest and had a reputation for being a ruthless womaniser who you did not want to get on the wrong side of.**

**In effect, it completely explained why Arthur had grown up to be such an enormous prat.**

 

“Oh my god!” Merlin gasped. “This completely explains why Arthur grew up to be such an enormous prat!”

“I’m actually surprised he isn’t worse,” Morgana remarked. “I mean – him being a total twat aside – he’s actually a decent guy. He’s … nice.”

“That’s true.” Gwen bit her lip and turned to Lance. “Lance? You’re not going to stop being friends with Arthur now, are you?”

Lance turned to Gwen, his eyebrows drawn together in thought as he surveyed Gwen’s anxious face. Then he relaxed and gave her a small smile.

“No, don’t worry,” he reassured her. “I am not so intolerant as to lay the sins of the father on the head of the son. Besides, I know Arthur. He’s a good man – when he’s not attempting to screw every single man or woman in sight – and he’s nothing like his father. As much as I don’t like Uther Pendragon, I genuinely like Arthur, and I’m sorry that I never thought to ask about his family.”

They all sighed at that, wincing as they realised how little they knew about Arthur.

“I’m just glad that he’s as nice a guy as he is,” Merlin said. “I mean, I don’t think that it can have been easy, growing up with a dad like that.”

 

**Guys, you have no idea how right I was. It turned out that Lance was the first one to realise this and understand just how utterly unlike his father Arthur was. He spent the next week ambushing Arthur with surprise hugs and taking over as Arthur’s wingman – which, of course, he was a lot better at than I ever was. He and Arthur became a lot closer after that. But then, bonding over a man like Uther Pendragon will do that to you, as Lance was unlucky enough to find out on his first day at the new job …**

**  
**

****  
_February 2010_   


**“Guys! Guys!” Lance ran into The Great Dragon, a look of horror on his face. “Guys, Uther Pendragon is a _monster_! He’s a million times worse than Arthur. In fact, I don’t even know how the two of them can be related, they’re so different! And I know that it was great of Arthur to offer me a job there, and the pay is – well, it’s insane, is what it is – and that we need the money, but there is no way in hell that I am going to work for that man. He _kicks_ kittens, Gwen! He _literally_ kicks kittens! And then he _fired_ his secretary for bringing the animal in, when she was only going to drop it off at the vet’s in her lunch break! I’m sorry, Gwen, but I can’t do it, I really can’t …”**

**  
**

**One week and five days later and Lance had an office, a desk and a nameplate on his door on the 55th floor of the building of the _Pendragon and Gorlois International Bank._**

**  
**

**Wait, what’s that? Why had Lance, P &G’s fiercest opponent even contemplated taking a job at the offices of his very worst enemies? Well, you see, it all happened when the law office that Lance was working for encountered a bit of difficulty, and were forced to-**

**But wait – that’s a whole other story. If you want that one, you had better ask Lance. This is the tiny bit of his career that he doesn’t like to talk about – his stint as a lawyer for P &G. It’s not something that he is proud of – he took the job out of necessity and out of some wacky idea of the honour to be had in supporting his wife, whatever the cost to himself. Sure, things there weren’t _all_ bad – he and Arthur had some pretty fun times there, as I hear. _And_ they had a heated indoor pool and massage area right at the top of the building, so it can’t have been _that_ awful. Anyway, Lance quit a few years later, turning his nose up at the fast cars and the piles of money and choosing instead to follow his dream and work pro-bono to aid those who couldn’t help themselves. He is currently thinking of bringing an action against P&G to stop them from treading all over the little people. Arthur doesn’t mind, being estranged from his dad, and all, but … but I digress, and this really is all a completely different story.**

 

“I’m going to go after him,” Merlin said after a moment. Kissing Freya on the cheek, he got up and walked out of the pub.

He didn’t have to go far. Arthur was standing just outside the pub’s back entrance – a place he usually went when he needed fresh air – slouching against the wall with a scowl on his face. The scowl became even more pronounced when he saw Merlin there.

“What are you doing here?” he snapped.

Merlin carefully sidled up next to Arthur and leaned on the wall beside him.

“I wanted to see if you were all right,” he said quietly. “And to – and to apologise.”

Arthur snorted but didn’t say anything.

“God,” Merlin sighed, clutching his hair with his hands and then dropping them down against the wall again. “I don’t even know what to say. It was just _colossally_ stupid of us not to realise who you were. I should have known who you were – I mean, you’re one of my best friends!”

“I _am_ your best friend,” Arthur muttered huffily, loosening up temporarily before remembering that he was supposed to be pissed off and returning to sporting a sullen glare.

Merlin gave a weak roll of his eyes before getting back to the point.

“The thing is, we’re sorry we never thought to ask you about your family. I guess it just … never came up, you know? And – sorry, Arthur – but you never seemed to be particularly keen to reveal anything _really_ personal about yourself, so … well, what I mean is, we’re sorry.”

Arthur was silent for a moment, digesting what Merlin had said. Then he gave a bitter laugh.

“You know, all this time I thought you guys had never mentioned it because you were being sensitive?” he laughed wryly. “I thought you’d realised that the subject of my parents was a sore one and _for once_ people weren’t interested in me solely because of my family name.” His laugh turned slightly bitter. “Turns out the reason you weren’t interested is because you didn’t even care to _know_.”

“You know that’s not true!” Merlin immediately protested. “Look, Arthur – the reason we didn’t know wasn’t because we don’t care – it’s because we’re – well – not very bright I suppose.” Arthur almost managed to suppress a smirk at the admission. “And – yeah, I suppose that your father being who he is – it is surprising and intriguing and all that, but we don’t care – not really!” Merlin paused for a moment before adding, “Although you may get Lance at your neck every few days, badgering you to implement ethical and environmental reforms at P&G, but just point out how beautiful Gwen looks that day and you can distract him easily enough. The point is, Arthur, that we don’t care about what your surname is, or who your father is – we’re friends with you because we _like_ you. Okay sure, you can be a bit of a prat – _more_ than a bit really – but … but we _like_ you. We _care_ for you, and we want you here with us. You’re our _friend_.”

Arthur glanced up at that.

“Do you, Merlin?” he asked, his voice oddly serious. “Do you _care_ – for me?”

Merlin frowned, puzzled by the question.

“Of course,” he said. “I just said so, didn’t I?”

Arthur eyed him before heaving a sigh.

“Yeah,” he said roughly, pushing off from the wall. “Yeah, I guess you did.”

“So … are we okay?” Merlin asked him hesitantly.

Arthur’s brow furrowed.

“Well,” he said eventually. “Only on the condition everyone has to buy me a round of beer first. And _you_ have to help me pull by pretending to be my deaf little brother whom I’ve taken care of since we lost our parents at the age of five … actually, we’d better make that _blind_ little brother. No one would ever believe you’re deaf with _those_ ears!”

“Hey!” Merlin protested playfully, sticking his tongue out at Arthur in a childish manner. “Fine.”

“Perhaps we’d better make it that you’re my _simple_ younger brother …” Arthur eyed Merlin speculatively but ducked away grinning when Merlin aimed a swat at him.

“Ready to go back in?” Merlin asked him after a moment.

Arthur looked Merlin in the eyes.

“You – _all_ of you – you really want me? As a friend?” He seemed to really care about the answer. Merlin didn’t doubt that he was one of the very few people who was actually allowed to see Arthur this way.

Shaking his head fondly, Merlin stepped closer and wrapped a gentle hand around Arthur’s wrist.

“Silly,” he sighed with an amused smile. “You already _are_ our friend.” And with that, he pulled Arthur back into the pub.

If Arthur clutched at and squeezed Merlin’s hand before they came into view of their table, then neither of them ever mentioned it afterwards.

 

*

_May 2009_

Merlin and Freya had dated for just over a year now, and Merlin could safely say that he was the happiest he had ever been in a relationship. Everything was perfect. Freya was beautiful, kind and sweet and she got him completely. She enjoyed the same things that he did, she listened to him talk about architecture with a fond smile on her face, and she knew the exact way that he liked his eggs in the morning. Add to that the fact that she held the same views on marriage that Merlin did, and that she some day wanted to start a family, she was _perfect_. Oh, and not to mention the fact that the sex was bloody _fantastic_.

So, a year later and Merlin was planning on proposing to her. Yes, he had wanted to marry her almost from the day he had met her but proposing to her would make things serious. Wanting advice on the matter, he had asked his friends for their opinions on whether or not they thought it was too soon for such a step. Gwen and Lance had hemmed and hawed, Morgana had rapped out a straight up “dear god yes” and Arthur had merely stared at Merlin as if he were mad and had asked him what the hell was wrong with him that he would want to give up the best years of bachelordom to settle down and get married. So all in all, it wasn’t a very positive response. Merlin, however, had a mind of his own, and so he didn’t fully dismiss the idea of proposing to Freya.

Actually, that was a lie. He didn’t dismiss the idea of proposing to Freya at all.

“I wonder if she would like to get married in a church,” he mused to an utterly uninterested Arthur. “I think she would. She’s not particularly religious or anything, but I think she would like a traditional wedding – you know, the service, the white dress and all that.”

“Which one of you would wear the dress?” Arthur muttered under his breath but Merlin either didn’t hear or just ignored him.

“Or maybe she would like to get married outdoors. I can see her now, with a wreath of flowers on her head.” Merlin’s eyes gleamed and he gave a happy sigh. “She’s _beautiful_.”

Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Look,” he said at last, his expression slightly closed off as he interrupted Merlin in the middle of his deliberations on whether or not Freya would see the romantic side to finding an engagement ring in the fish course at dinner. “I’m happy that you’re happy and that you – you found someone to love. Honestly, I am. It’s just that … Merlin, it’s our weekly drink together. Just the two of us. Only – only it _hasn’t_ been the two of us for a long time. Freya’s always there, hovering in the background.”

Merlin’s brow furrowed.

“How do you mean?” he asked tensely.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably.

“I just mean that – she’s always there in the background. You’re always thinking of her. Even when she’s not here and it’s just you and me – your mind is always somewhere else. With _her_.” Arthur looked slightly ashamed at admitting this but he couldn’t disguise the hurt in his tone.

Merlin’s eyes widened.

“But I _love_ her!” he said, as if that automatically cleared away the problem.

Arthur’s eyebrows drew even lower and he avoided Merlin’s gaze.

“I know,” he said gently. He swallowed. “The thing is – you are my best mate. You’re the only one who seems to – to-” he hesitated. “To _get_ me. And I just – I don’t want to lose that.”

Merlin immediately softened. He realised that Arthur must be feeling the exact same way that he had felt on first hearing of Gwen and Lance’s engagement.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Nothing will change. Me being with Freya won’t change anything.”

Arthur gave him a sad, almost regretful look.

“It already has,” he said, and patting Merlin on the knee, he swallowed the last of his beer and wandered off in the direction of the woman with the longest legs and the shortest dress.

Merlin sat where he was, a frown on his brow and a knot in his stomach that hadn’t been there before.

With one last hidden glance at Arthur, he finished his drink, set the glass down, and left the pub.

Arthur’s eyes were on him the whole way out.

 

*

“Do you like Freya?”

Morgana started at the question.

“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously. “Is this a trick question?”

Merlin shook his head.

“No,” he said. “It’s pretty straightforward. Do you like Freya?”

Morgana stared at him appraisingly.

“Yes,” she said at last. “Yes. Of course, yes. It’s kind of impossible not to – she’s like you in that respect.” Merlin beamed at her but Morgana continued. “It’s just that …”

“What?” Merlin asked immediately, the knot in his gut re-emerging once more.

Morgana glanced up at him and then shook her head, giving him a tired smile.

“Nothing,” she said, smiling weakly. “It’s my own silly feelings, that’s all. You know how I feel about marriage.”

“Freya doesn’t have those feelings,” Merlin reminded her gently.

Morgana’s face went stony for a moment before she sighed and her tired smile returned.

“No,” she agreed. “She doesn’t.”

And that was the last that they talked of it.

 

*

“Do _you_ like Freya?”

Merlin’s question was directed at Lance. He already knew that Gwen wholeheartedly approved of Freya and was looking forward to having another married couple in their group. Merlin was glad of this – for his sake and Freya’s. However, that didn’t stop him from wanting to know the opinion of his best and oldest friend. He waited nervously for his reply.

Lance eyed him curiously, his intelligent eyes taking in Merlin’s apprehension.

“You know I do,” he said eventually. “I think Freya is a wonderful girl. I’m surprised that you even had to ask that. Which raises the question: why _did_ you?”

Merlin fidgeted.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. “I love her Lance – I love her so much. And if it was up to me, I would propose to her on the spot and marry her this very minute.”

“Is it not up to you?” Lance gently prodded him.

Merlin plonked himself down on a chair with a huff.

“Apparently, not as much as I’d thought,” he grumbled. He looked up at Lance with a pout. “You would have thought that the only thing you needed to worry about when thinking of asking a girl to marry you was whether or not you loved each other, wouldn’t you?”

“That is generally the case,” Lance said cautiously. “It was in _my_ experience.”

“Then why-” Merlin broke off and stared moodily at the ground. Finally he heaved a breath and looked Lance in the eye. “I know that if I marry Freya, I will be happy,” he said quietly. “But what I don’t know is – is if _others_ will be.”

Lance raised an eyebrow.

“Others?” he asked.

Merlin shifted awkwardly.

“Arthur,” he said at last. “And Morgana. They both agreed that they liked Freya but they … I don’t know – they just … they don’t seem very happy that I want to marry her.”

Lance gave Merlin a look of sympathy.

“Do you not know why?” he asked Merlin in a soft voice.

Merlin frowned.

“How the hell should I know what those two are thinking?” he demanded. “But you know what, I think they’re being selfish and prejudiced! Just because _they_ don’t believe in marriage doesn’t mean that everyone else should feel the same! They _know_ that I have always wanted this, and frankly, I don’t _care_ if they are upset that I haven’t been influenced by their silly ideas, and I think it’s awful of them to even want me to change myself for them!”

Lance was looking at him sadly.

“You really think that _that’s_ why they are upset?” he asked.

Merlin looked away. In truth, he didn’t. He knew Arthur and Morgana too well - he knew that they were better than he was giving them credit for.

“No,” he said reluctantly. “I don’t. I mean – they _do_ like Freya, right?”

“Honestly?” Lance had his lawyer face on, the one he used when he needed others to listen to him closely. Merlin nodded. “Honestly, I think that this hasn’t actually got anything to do with Freya.”

Merlin frowned.

“How do you mean?” he asked.

Lance sighed and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“You are close to both Arthur and Morgana,” he said at last, staring seriously at Merlin. “Very close. You were the one with whom they first made contact and it is through you that they joined our group, so to speak. They probably feel slightly … wary at the thought of you pulling away to be with another person.”

“You mean that they think that if I start spending more time with Freya they will think that they are no longer wanted?” Merlin asked, shocked.

Lance made a face.

“Well … in a way, yes. But it’s more than that. _You_ are their link to this circle of friends, Merlin. You are very close to both of them. You care for them and they care for you – a lot. Quite probably a lot more than you know.” Lance waited for a heartbeat but when this didn’t provoke any reaction from Merlin, he sighed. “As I said, they care for you very much. You must also take into consideration that by nature, they are very possessive people. They both grew up as only children, and they probably never had to share anything. Add that to the fact that neither of them have ever really had a proper close friend – something that they both have admitted – and then reflect on how they must feel about you and Freya.”

Merlin bit his lip as he considered this.

“They’re jealous!” he marvelled, surprised by the thought.

“And scared,” Lance nodded. “Though they try their best to ignore it, for your sake.”

Merlin chewed his lip thoughtfully.

“Thank you Lance,” he said at last, hoping he conveyed the full extent of his gratefulness in those words. “You always help me to think clearly.”

Lance gave him a warm smile.

“What are best friends for?” he asked warmly, giving Merlin a one-armed hug.

Just at that moment, the door opened and Gwen and Freya came in, chattering happily together, looking exceedingly comfortable and at ease with each other. Lance threw Merlin an encouraging smile, which Merlin returned.

Then, as one, they both got up and went to greet the women they loved.

 

*

 

Some weeks later, Merlin was getting ready to propose. He gone over and over Lance’s words in his head and had started spending more time with Arthur and Morgana, making sure that he didn’t talk about Freya. They had both been surprised but gratified all the same, and things almost returned to normal. Almost, in that Merlin was fully set on proposing to Freya, and had even bought an engagement ring to this purpose. Lance had been dragged along to aid him in its selection – Merlin wouldn’t take Arthur or Morgana, and he would have taken Gwen, but she couldn’t keep a secret to save her life and would have given the whole thing away the moment she saw Freya, so Lance it was. Not that Lance minded, and anyway, he was a veritable font of information on women’s jewellery and romance.

So now Merlin had it all planned out. He had the ring, he had reservations at Freya’s favourite restaurant (the French one with roses and the candles and romantic ambience – and not to mention exorbitant prices), and he had mentally rehearsed his proposal several dozen times in his head. Freya had beamed and looked eager when he had invited her to dinner that evening and Lance had given him a firm nod of good luck, which Merlin very much appreciated.

Merlin escorted Freya into the restaurant and towards their table, almost buzzing with nervous excitement. He had a stupidly big smile on his face which made some of the other patrons look at him oddly, but none of them said anything. Merlin and Freya sat down just as the table next to theirs vacated. Merlin glanced around distractedly and for a moment he thought he saw familiar warm brown masculine eyes and luxuriously soft brown hair but then the flash was gone and his nerves returned with full force, causing him to pat his pocket in order to check for the ring. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the box through the material, even though he realistically knew that it was perfectly safe and secure where it was.

Merlin fidgeted all the way through dinner, and he was sure that he was acting oddly. He rather suspected that Freya had guessed the motive behind the fancy dinner – she too was looking nervous and slightly apprehensive, and was just as distracted as he was.

Finally, after their desserts arrived, Merlin decided to make his move. He sat up and straightened his clothes nervously, checking to make sure the ring was there, before turning to Freya. He opened his mouth to speak when –

“Merlin,” Freya suddenly unknowingly interrupted him. She was looking at him with suppressed emotion, her hands clasped tightly together. The light from the candles reflected in her eyes and Merlin thought that she had never looked so beautiful. “Merlin,” she continued. “I – I need to tell you something. I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment but none seemed to come, but this – this looks to be the one.”

Merlin’s forehead wrinkled. She wanted to tell him something? So that meant … she didn’t know abut his proposal after all? Or did she know and she simply wanted to tell him ‘Yes’? Or … he was suddenly gripped by fear. What if she wanted to tell him that she was pregnant? That would explain the nerves and the odd looks that she had been giving him. Merlin started to sweat as he searched his memory for any time that they might have forgone using protection. He did want a family but he sure as hell didn’t want one so soon! Nervously, he waited for Freya to continue.

“Merlin, I – I still can’t believe this myself! – the Institute of Marine Biology wrote to me, and – and my application has been accepted! They want me to join them for further research into the life cycles of aquatic reefs.”

Merlin’s first feeling was one of gut-clenching relief, soon followed by joy for Freya.

“Freya, that’s _wonderful_!” he exclaimed, reaching forward and clasping her hands, beaming. “I’m so proud of you! I can’t believe you waited to tell me this!”

Freya’s returning smile wavered and her eyes lost their glow. Slowly, she seemed to diminish in size.

“Freya?” Merlin asked, worried. “Frey? What’s wrong? Why are you – is there something wrong?”

Freya looked at him, her eyes tense.

“They want me to go to Australia, to study the Great Barrier Reef,” she said in a low voice, her tone not giving anything away.

Merlin frowned, perplexed.

“But – but that’s good, right? I mean – you always wanted to go there. You – it’s your _dream_!”

Freya suddenly looked miserable.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, her voice rough. She avoided his eyes. “They want me to leave in two weeks. Merlin, it’s for four years.”

Merlin’s insides turned to ice.

The first thing he thought of was, stupidly, that this was even worse than if she had been pregnant.

Then the reality of the situation dawned on him and stared at her.

“Four _years_?” he whispered. “Four whole _years_? Full time?”

Freya nodded, still avoiding his gaze.

Merlin put his head in his hands.

After a moment he looked up.

“When did you find out?” he asked, feeling numb.

Freya bit her lip.

“ _When_ Freya?” he asked again, needing to know.

“Two weeks ago,” Freya finally answered, not looking at him. “But I only got the official confirmation this morning.”

Merlin’s head reeled. Two weeks. Two whole bloody weeks. He had only bought the engagement ring ten days ago. Ten days, during which she had been preparing for sunny skies and blue seas while he had been preparing for matrimony. She had known for two weeks. And she hadn’t told him. She hadn’t given him the slightest hint that the rug was about to be ripped out from under his feet. Then again, maybe she had – he just hadn’t known to look for the signs.

“Why,” his voice shook. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Freya looked wretched.

“I didn’t know – I didn’t know _how_!” she whispered, her tears apparent in her voice. “I didn’t even know if I had got the placement till this morning and I wanted to be _sure_. There was no point in ruining things for no reason!”

Merlin’s head darted up.

“Ruining things?” he asked sharply.

Freya bit her lip and looked away.

“Why should anything be ruined?” Merlin asked, his voice going uncomfortably high.

Freya didn’t speak. When she did, her words took him aback.

“Ask me to stay,” she said. Her voice was toneless and she was looking down, her hair covering her face.

“W-What?” Merlin stammered.

“Ask me to stay,” her voice was firm but there was the slightest hint of desperation in her tone that confused Merlin even further. “Tell me that you want me to stay with you, that you don’t want me to go. That you want me here, with you.”

Merlin stared at her.

“I-I … I _do_ ,” he said eventually, his voice croaking. But then he shook his head. “But I can’t ask that of you. I _won’t_ ask that of you.”

A tear ran down Freya’s face.

“You won’t?” she whispered.

Merlin rubbed his hands against his face.

“Freya,” he said hoarsely. “God, Freya. This is – this is possibly the worst thing I have ever – I never even … god. Look,” he said, reaching over and taking her hands firmly in his, making her look at him. “I love you. I love you _so_ , so much. You know that. And I _know_ you love me too. You know me. And so you must know that that is the reason why I would never – never stand in the way of your dream. Not for anything.”

Freya’s lower lip trembled and her eyes gleamed with unshed tears, but when she spoke, her voice was firm and steady.

“And us?” she asked.

Merlin’s jaw tensed.

“We’ll make it work,” he said firmly. “We love each other. We’ll make it work.”

“We could visit often,” Freya said shyly.

“I could come over for Christmas,” Merlin volunteered. “Get out of the cold and have a lovely warm winter.”

“I could visit during the summer,” Freya leaned forward eagerly. “And Easter too, in time for the Easter eggs!”

“And we have mobile phones and email and skype and all that for the time in between!” Merlin enthused.

They both stared at each other, hope and determination in their eyes. But then, the light in their eyes slowly started to fade.

“Summer will probably be a busy time for me, studying the reef,” Freya said sadly, slowly slumping down in her seat.

“And I actually hate the idea of having a warm winter,” Merlin admitted. “I love the snow too much.”

“Phone calls will be inconvenient, what with the time difference,” Freya sighed. “And emails are so impersonal.”

“And,” Merlin’s eyes met Freya’s. “Long-distance relationships just don’t work.”

They both sunk into gloom.

“I-I could stay?” Freya suggested tentatively.

Merlim immediately shook his head.

“No,” he said firmly. “That wouldn’t do either of us any good. You’d be miserable, and I’d feel miserable for making you miserable. It wouldn’t end well. No, you have to go.”

They fell silent again.

“I guess – I guess _I_ could … move to Australia?” Merlin’s tone was even, not giving anything away.

But Freya knew him far too well.

“No,” she said immediately. “I _know_ you, Merlin. You would hate it. The seasons are all wrong, it’d be far too hot for your liking, there would be _snakes_ , they call football ‘soccer’-” Merlin shuddered. “And more than that, you’d miss your friends. I know how close you are to them, Merlin. They are your family. You wouldn’t – you _couldn’t_ leave them like that.”

Freya trailed off and Merlin didn’t reply.

Eventually, Merlin looked up.

“So … is this it, then?” he asked helplessly.

Freya shrugged, looking just as shell-shocked as he felt.

“I-I suppose so,” she said.

“I can’t believe it,” Merlin just sat there, dazed. “I thought – I really thought that this would be it, you know? That you – that we-”

“I know.” Freya’s eyes had tears in them. “I know.”

“I really thought that we were going to live together and grow old together …”

“…Have half a dozen children …”

“Play bridge with Lance and Gwen …”

“… Be together forever,” Freya finished, giving Merlin a bittersweet smile.

Merlin looked into Freya’s sad, sweet eyes and his composure crumpled.

“Freya!” he gasped out, tears in his own eyes.

“I know,” Freya’s voice trembled and she squeezed Merlin’s hand.

“I don’t – I can’t-” Merlin stammered out.

“Me too,” Freya squeezed his hand all the tighter.

“But I _love_ you!” Merlin suddenly burst out, much in the same way that he had said to Arthur, as if that one fact changed everything.

“And I love you.” Freya was the calm one now, the one who was reassuring. “But that doesn’t change anything.”

How ironic, Merlin vaguely thought, that that one thing could change everything and then again change nothing at the exact same time.

“So this is it?” he asked again, gaining a hold over his emotions.

Freya said nothing but squeezed his hand.

They sat in silence for a while. Merlin briefly contemplated taking the ring out of his pocket and showing it to her. Maybe if he proposed now, she would still stay. Maybe he could throw it in her face – tell her that he had wanted to marry her but she had ruined everything. Maybe just show it to her, and ask her to help him understand.

In the end, he did nothing. All of those options were terrible and cruel, and Merlin was not so pitiless and vindictive as all that, to want to hurt Freya in such a way. He didn’t hate her. He felt no anger over this parting, only sadness.

When the bill came, Merlin automatically moved to pay it but Freya stopped him.

“Let’s split it,” she said instead. “You pay half and I will pay the rest.”

Merlin was about to object when he paused and reconsidered. He then gave her a brusque nod and did as she said, while she made to pay for her share of the meal.

They exited the restaurant in silence. They didn’t touch each other; they didn’t even look at each other. Once outside, they finally turned to stand face to face.

Freya was the first to speak.

“Merlin,” she whispered. “I- I hope you don’t think too badly of me for this.”

Merlin shook his head.

“I don’t. I – I understand.”

Freya looked relieved at this, and she gave him a watery smile.

“Goodbye,” she whispered tearfully, leaning forward and giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “And remember that I love you. Whatever happens, always remember that.”

Merlin had the wild urge to start laughing hysterically, or to burst into tears. This whole scenario should have felt melodramatic to him, but instead, he just felt numb.

“I love you,” he replied instead. “I don’t think I will ever love any woman as much as I love you.”

 

**And you know what? I never did.**

 

“Don’t say that,” Freya shook her head violently. “Don’t say that. You _will_ find someone. Promise me that.”

Reluctantly, Merlin nodded, not meeting her gaze.

“Goodbye,” he murmured, staring down at his feet.

“Goodbye,” Freya whispered back, her hand a gentle touch on his cheek.

When Merlin looked up again, she was gone.

Numb, he just stood there. He couldn’t think – he couldn’t _process_ anything. He didn’t know where he was. He had a ring in his pocket. He had an engagement ring in his pocket and no one to give it to. Why did he have it? Who did he have?

Almost unconsciously, he pulled his mobile phone from his pocket. He scrolled down through the names. His thumb hovered over Gwen’s name, then Lancelot, then Morgana and briefly, even Mum. However, he suddenly knew that he couldn’t talk to any of them – he couldn’t face any of them. Not right now.

So he did the only thing he _could_ do. Scrolling back up the list of his contacts, Merlin’s thumb stopped over the very first name on the list.

Arthur.

He pressed dial.

Twenty minutes later, Arthur pulled up in a taxi, leaping out the moment the car pulled to a stop.

Merlin was standing in the same spot that he had been standing in ever since Freya had left, cold and numb and unfeeling.

“She left,” he finally croaked out, after Arthur’s worried demands and inquiries and checks. Arthur stilled. “We – we broke up. She’s going to Australia, and I’m – I’m not.”

Arthur’s face, usually so quick to smirk and tease, was filled with dismay and genuine sadness.

“Oh, Merlin,” were the only words that he said, and suddenly Merlin felt himself wrapped in Arthur’s arms, being held tightly and close.

Arthur was still holding him five minutes later, when he broke into full body sobs even as the first drops of rain began to fall from the sky.

 

**That was one of the worst days of my life. I can still remember the pain even now. And you know, I never did see Freya again.**

**Well, at least, not till a couple of years ago. I was walking by the Mosby building when I ran into her. She had only just got back from Australia and wasn’t planning on staying long – she had been offered a fellowship in Australia which she had immediately accepted and had helped to make up her mind to stay in Australia permanently. Apparently, she had fallen in love with the country instantly from the moment she had arrived there, alone and heartbroken. And it wasn’t the only thing she had fallen in love with. It had taken her a while, but she had eventually got over me. By the time I met her again, she and Will were very much in love and were planning on settling down together.**

**Of course, by that time, I was very happy and thoroughly in love myself, so my main feelings about her were ones of happiness and relief. It was a very fortunate meeting and we haven’t stopped being friends since. She and Will and baby Vivian are coming down for the wedding in a couple of months.**

**  
**

**I never did tell her about the engagement ring that I had bought.**

**  
**

**Of course, in the period following the break-up, the idea that I would ever feel any happiness at her having moved on was completely out of the question. At the time, the idea that I myself would ever feel any happiness or move on was just as impossible.**

**It was actually quite some time before I actually did manage to let go and get on with my romantic life. And that was perhaps the only saving grace of my relationship to Morgause …**

 

**  
**

 


	2. Part Two

**HOW MERLIN MET MORGAUSE ... AGAIN**

 

 _March 2010_

It was a while before Merlin could finally bring himself to date again. Lance, Gwen and Morgana had started to cautiously encourage him start dating in the first few months after of his break-up with Freya, but Merlin just wasn’t interested. Arthur tried to get Merlin laid (even generously offering to do the job himself) but Merlin couldn’t bring himself to do that either. It seemed, for the moment, that Merlin’s quest to find True Love was over.

At least it looked that way until one fine evening in April, when Merlin walked into The Great Dragon with a thoughtful look on his face and slowly made his way over to where the rest of his friends were sitting.

“So,” he said, taking a deep breath and sitting down, making everyone turn to look at him. “I met someone today …”

The other four sat up immediately, all previous conversation forgotten.

“Finally!” Arthur let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh Merlin!” Gwen squealed. “Who is she? Where did you meet her?”

She frowned as Merlin glanced away almost nervously and fidgeted in his seat.

“I met her at this bookshop,” he said, avoiding meeting Gwen’s eyes. “And – and you may already know her …”

“We do?” Gwen’s brow wrinkled. “Who is it? Do we know her well?”

Merlin looked uncomfortable.

“Well, you _knew_ her,” he said, squirming slightly. “You and Lance, back at university. We – we used to date.”

Gwen’s brow lowered even further. Lance’s expression mirrored hers but then his gaze fell on Merlin’s uncomfortable form and his eyes widened. He winced, glancing over at Gwen.

“Now, Gwen,” Merlin said almost apprehensively. “I know that you aren’t going to be very - er … _pleased_ at this, and I know that you never really got along back at uni …”

Gwen’s look of suspicion was growing bigger by the second.

“… And I agree that she behaved very badly at the time, but you have to realise that it’s been _years_ since you last saw her …”

“No …” Gwen’s voice was low, her eyes widening in realisation.

“… And I swear to you that she _has_ changed since then, and that she’s …”

“It had _better_ not be.” Gwen’s voice was threatening.

“… _So_ much better than before …”

“Merlin, I swear to god, if this is who I think it is, then I am going to give you such a smack …”

“… But really, you have to admit that you had it in for her right from the beginning …”

“Merlin …”

“I mean, if you think about it, Morgause wasn’t _that_ ba-”

He was cut off by Gwen giving him a sharp smack around the head, the loud thwack of it cutting clean across the room.

“ _‘Wasn’t all that bad’? ‘Had it in for her from the beginning’_?” Gwen was fuming, her jaw clenched and her cheeks red. “You’re saying that about _her_? You’re saying that about bloody _Morgause_ of all people?”

Merlin cringed and tried to unobtrusively shuffle away from her.

“She _has_ changed, you know,” he muttered defensively but was silenced by a deadly look from Gwen.

“Merlin,” she said in a dangerous voice. “Merlin, when you said that you had met ‘someone’ … what exactly did you mean?”

Merlin mumbled something and made some incomprehensible gestures with his hands.

“Merlin …” Gwen warned him.

“I may have … agreed to go to dinner with her tomorrow,” he said quickly, before dodging behind Morgana to avoid looking at Gwen’s furious face. He peeked out from behind his hands and upon seeing the look that was being directed at him, decided it was much safer for him to continue hiding.

“You did _what_?”

“It’s not a _date_ or anything!” Merlin protested but one look at Gwen’s expression caused him to shut his mouth very quickly.

Gwen’s eyes flashed in anger.

“You – you stupid, _stupid_ -” she hissed but was quickly cut off by Lance.

“Calm down, Gwen.” Lance stroked her arm gently. “I’m sure that Merlin can explain-”

“Explain?” Gwen practically spat. “After all the trouble that we went to in extricating him from her claws?! Explain what he’s doing back with a harpy like _that_?! Explain why of all the women in the world, the one that he decides to-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Arthur raised his hands to stop the rant. He looked over at Merlin, Gwen and Lance. “Who’s this Morgause person?”

“And why does Gwen hate her so much?” Morgana added, looking curiously between the three others.

Merlin looked at his hands and Gwen just looked pissed off. Realising it was up to him, Lance took a deep breath.

“Well it’s like this,” he said, glancing cautiously between his wife and his best friend. “We were in our second year of uni, and Merlin had suddenly randomly decided to join the Debate Society …”

 

 _September 2001_

“I’ve joined the debating team!” Merlin announced as he walked through the door and into the room he shared with Lance. Lance and Gwen immediately stopped kissing and pulled away from each other, though not without feeling a sense of mild irritation at being interrupted.

“Come again?” Lance asked, frowning. “I thought I just heard you say that you had joined the debating team.”

“That’s because I _did_!” Merlin threw them a superior smile before plonking himself down on his bed.

Gwen sat up, giving Merlin a confused look.

“Merlin – no offence and all, but … _why_?”

Merlin’s eyes fell on the dubious expressions of his friends. A look of self-righteous indignation immediately crossed his face.

“What?” he demanded indignantly. “Is it so _wrong_ of me to want to have an extracurricular activity that I enjoy? Or have something that will look good on my record?”

“No,” Lance said evenly. “Those are both good reasons. We only ask because you actually _tried_ the Debate Society last year and you quit after the first session because of a falling out with the society’s president.”

“You didn’t seem to get that debating is actually different from arguing,” Gwen added wryly. “And anyway I’m pretty sure that you told me that the Debate Society was full of pretentious morons who took themselves way too seriously.”

Merlin flushed bright red at that.

“Well it’s different now,” he mumbled defensively. “And that prat of a president graduated, so there’s someone else in charge now. And – I mean, everything deserves a second chance, right?”

Gwen was observing him shrewdly.

“Merlin,” she said suspiciously. “This isn’t like the last time you joined a society, is it? _Please_ tell me that this isn’t a repeat of the Glove-Puppet Society incident. Because we all know how _that_ turned out.”

 

 

“Wait, what?” Arthur asked, leaning forward eagerly. “How did the _what_ turn out now?”

 

 

 **“Yeah!” Elena demanded. “Tell us about the Glove-Puppet Society incident!”**

 

 

“We are _not_ going to bring that up again!” Merlin growled mutinously. “I had a perfectly good reason for joining that society - Lisa was bloody _gorgeous_! And I actually really liked it there! It’s not _my_ fault that none of those idiots had a sense of humour!”

“Merlin, you kept on making dirty glove-puppet jokes and then you rearranged their entire collection of _beloved, hand-made_ glove-puppets so that they were all in various horribly compromising positions on the _same day_ that the society was giving a surprise puppet performance to bunch of primary school kids. Tell me how they’re supposed to have a sense of humour about a bunch of traumatised kids?”

Lance snorted underneath his breath, reminding Merlin once more just why he and Lance got along so well.

“I still think that there was no need for them to chase me out of the room screaming ‘pervert!’ at me the whole way back,” he groused. “And Lisa wouldn’t give me the time of day after that! Stuck up cow.”

Lance rolled his eyes.

“But really, Merlin,” Gwen persisted. “Please tell me this isn’t about a girl.”

Merlin avoided her eyes.

“Oh Merlin!” Gwen groaned.

Merlin looked embarrassed but resolute.

“You never learn, do you?” Gwen said disbelievingly. “Even after the Glove-Puppet Society debacle – two weeks later and you were hanging after that Nimueh girl and you went and joined that – I don’t even remember the name of it now …”

“They didn’t tell you the name.” Merlin blushed furiously. “It was a secret society.”

“Yeah,” Gwen snorted. “A secret society that took midnight dances in random fields. _Naked_.”

 

 

Arthur choked.

 

 

“Yeah, well I quit pretty soon after that, didn’t I?” Merlin reminded her.

“And here you go again,” Gwen sighed. “So go on then, tell us. Who is the newest girl to draw you into foolishness?”

Merlin let out a sigh and his face took on a dreamy aspect.

“Morgause,” he breathed, pronouncing her name with reverence.

Gwen and Lance exchanged a look.

“Morgause?” Lance asked doubtfully. “Blonde Morgause? The one who goes overboard on the eyeliner?”

Merlin threw him a filthy look.

“Yes, _that_ Morgause, and for your information she does her makeup _perfectly_ , thank you very much!”

“Merlin,” Gwen looked troubled. “You do know that she’s er – that she’s-”

“Beautiful?” Merlin’s goofy look was back. “Talented? Smart?”

“Hmm,” Gwen’s lips thinned. “I was going to say ‘a soulless bitch’, but to each their own, I guess.”

Merlin stared at Gwen in shock.

“Gwen!” he gasped. “How could you say such a thing?”

“You must admit though, Merlin,” Lance jumped in before Gwen could besmirch Morgause’s name any further. “That she does … have a reputation.”

Merlin folded his arms.

“I thought _you_ at least wouldn’t listen to gossip, Lance,” he said. “You’re wrong about her. She’s wonderful. And we’re going to dinner. She’s picking me up – er – I mean, she’s coming here at seven. You’ll see for yourselves how great she is.”

“If you say so,” Lance murmured and he and Gwen both kept quiet till the evening.

At precisely seven o’clock on the dot, there came a sharp rap at the door. Merlin leapt up from his bed as if he had been electrocuted. He practically raced over to the door and threw it open.

“Morgause!” he exclaimed breathlessly, gazing at the girl standing outside in awe.

Morgause gave him a penetrating look, her wavy blonde hair framing her face, before striding into the room looking for all the world as if she owned it.

“So this is where you live then?” she demanded, looking around at the room with a curl to her lip.

“Yes,” Merlin answered eagerly. “It is.”

“Hmm.” Morgause gave the room another glance. “It’s very small, isn’t it?”

“Unbearably small!” Merlin immediately agreed, nodding.

Lance and Gwen exchanged a look. Merlin had been more than thrilled with their room when they had moved in, declaring it to be even bigger and better than the room they had shared in their first year.

“And you share with other people!” Morgause’s lip curled with disgust. “That will never do. You must change this, Merlin. I’m sure Carter House would take you if you made an application. I can put in a good word for you, I’m sure.”

“Oh _thank_ you!” Merlin seemed to be in awe of Morgause’s benevolence, apparently forgetting how long he had lobbied for and been excited about sharing a room with Lance for a second year in a row. “That would be brilliant!”

“I’m sure.” Morgause’s gaze fell on Lance and Gwen who immediately jerked back, as if Morgause’s gaze were a physical touch. “I suppose these are the roommates?”

“Yes,” Merlin nodded. “Well, Lance is. That’s Gwen, his girlfriend.”

“Hmm,” Morgause appraised them. “I must admit, Merlin, they are not what I expected. You said this one was reading Law?” She jerked her head at Lance.

“Yes ma’am,” Lance answered, stumbling over his words and wincing. “Er – I mean – Morgause. Yes. Law. That’s me.”

“Hmm.” Morgause said again, before turning to Gwen, who raised her chin defiantly. “And you are studying …?”

“Art,” Gwen answered stoutly.

Morgause’s lip curl became even more pronounced.

“ _Art_ ,” the mockery was clearly apparent in her voice. “So you want to be an _artist_ , do you?”

“Yes,” Gwen’s hackles were rising. “And what of it?”

“Oh, nothing,” Morgause gave a careless shrug. “You don’t seem to be the ‘starving artist’ kind. Though maybe a bit of starving might be good for you.” She looked pointedly at Gwen’s (perfectly trim and shapely) figure.

Lance had to physically restrain Gwen from leaping up and stabbing Morgause with a fork.

To add insult to injury, Merlin just guffawed stupidly in the back. Gwen and Lance glared at him.

“Come, Merlin,” Morgause commanded, turning on her heel. “We have dinner reservations.”

“Yes, Morgause,” Merlin said eagerly, and bounded after her like an eager puppy. The door slammed shut behind them as they exited the room, neither of them taking their leave.

Lance and Gwen glanced at each other. They both had a very bad feeling about this …

…

 

Gwen and Lance were right to have worried. In the weeks that followed, things became even worse.

“He’s become a pod person,” Lance declared, watching almost fearfully as Merlin leapt up to answer Morgause’s careless finger click. “Our Merlin’s been kidnapped and has been replaced by a mindless robot whose only objective in life is to follow the orders of the Evil Witch Queen.”

Gwen scowled and watched as Merlin hung onto Morgause’s every word, looking completely and utterly besotted.

“Brainwashed,” she muttered. “Completely brainwashed, that’s what he is. The evil soul-sucking bitch has gone and washed the brains right out of him.”

“What do we do?” Lance asked anxiously.

“I don’t know,” Gwen replied grimly, watching Morgause and Merlin with narrowed eyes. “Not yet.”

“Well we’d better hurry up and think of something,” Lance urged her. “He hasn’t joined us for a beer and pizza night in weeks. And he actually said no to a _Star Wars_ marathon all because Morgause had told him that he _really must_ go and see this pretentious art-house film playing down in some stupidly trendy little cinema. Morgause didn’t even go with him! He sat there watching it all on his own! And it was in _French_. Merlin barely even knows a word of French!”

“His brain is turning to mush,” Gwen said, her eyes still fixed on the offending couple. “Almost every single sentence that he speaks to me starts with the words ‘Morgause says’. It _has_ to stop.”

“Do you realise that she doesn’t let him do _anything_?” Lance added in a shocked whisper. “She tells him what to eat and what to read, she pays for _everything_ , she decides what he should wear, she holds the doors open for _him_ , and-” he glanced around nervously as if someone might hear. “ _And_ she is _always_ on top!”

Gwen stared at him.

“I saw it!” Lance whispered quickly. “I walked in while they – well, you know, and I saw them at it. Then Morgause gave me this evil look so I ran out again, but Merlin told me later that Morgause was very much the ‘take charge’ type.” He shuddered.

“We don’t need him to tell us that,” Gwen said flatly, cringing as Merlin quickly ran ahead to dust off the seat of a nearby bench. Morgause inspected the seat before patting Merlin’s head and sitting down. Merlin’s expression would have suggested that he had just received a knighthood from the Queen. “She’s got him wrapped around her little finger so tight that I’m surprised that he can even breathe.”

“We need a plan,” Lance said again, joining Gwen in watching Merlin and Morgause.

Gwen narrowed her eyes and began to think.

 

…

 

The next few weeks were spent with Gwen and Lance trying to surreptitiously sabotage Merlin and Morgause’s relationship. They frequently invited other girls over so that Merlin had the chance to realise that there were other (and much nicer) members of the female population out there. They made sure Merlin’s _Star Trek_ and old _Doctor Who_ DVD’s were prominently placed around the flat to goad Morgause into making slanderous comments about Merlin’s most beloved shows. Gwen even made sure to add a chick-lit section to Merlin’s bookshelf. In short, they tried almost every trick in the book to push Morgause and Merlin apart.

It didn’t work. Yes, Morgause turned her nose up at Merlin’s belongings as expected, but instead of protesting, Merlin meekly submitted to her criticisms and hid the DVDs away (strangely enough, the romance novels disappeared without a word as well). Merlin barely looked in the direction of other girls, except to compare them unfavourably to Morgause.

Gwen and Lance were almost at their wits end.

“Gwen,” Lance had the look of someone who had just undergone some terrible trauma. He was unconsciously rocking back and forth. “Gwen, we have to do something. I don’t think I can take this any longer. All the sneering and snide comments and the Zombie-Merlin … it’s been _months_ , Gwen. _Months_. This has to end. _Now_.”

Gwen grimaced. She closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath before slowly opening them.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay then. If it’s come to that, then … there is something you should know. I’ve had this plan in mind for a while now, but I thought … it’s just too risky. There could be some serious fallout and I don’t know whether or not we can make it out of this unscathed. We could end up losing out even more than we are now … But if, as you say, it’s come to this and we can’t take it any longer …”

“What?” Lance whispered. “Gwen, what is it?”

“It’s a plan of last resort,” she said grimly. She looked Lance straight in the eye. “We accelerate this thing and force a confrontation. Bring things to a climax. Force Merlin to make a final choice: Us or her.”

Lance gaped at her.

“We can’t do that!” he sputtered. “That’s – that’s … it’s not fair on Merlin!”

Gwen nodded grimly over to Merlin’s open wardrobe door, where all his casual slogan-covered T-shirts and frayed jeans and ratty trainers had been replaced with plaid shirts and turtleneck jumpers and _dress shoes_.

“Tell me Lance,” she said bleakly. “How is forcing Merlin to wear that for the rest of his life in any way _fair_?”

Lance took one look at the wardrobe and shuddered. He set his jaw.

“Fine,” he said, his eyes hard and determined. “Let’s do this.”

And with that, the plan was set into motion.

 

…

Morgause and Merlin came back from dinner together, Morgause giving Merlin a lengthy and detailed talk on the mating rituals of the silver-back gorilla. She was outlining the importance of the animals’ grunting as Merlin opened the door, when they heard the noises that were coming from within the room. For a wild moment Merlin actually thought that they had an escaped gorilla somehow trapped inside, but then his eyes fell on Lance and Gwen and he realised what the noises really were.

“Oh _guys_!” he moaned in dismay and mortification at having Morgause see this side to his friends. Luckily they had a blanket thrown over them which prevented any unnecessary exposure, and Merlin thanked heavens for small mercies even whilst feeling exceedingly irritated.

“ _What_ do you think you are _doing_?” Morgause’s voice was icy.

Gwen peeked out from under Lance’s embrace and threw Morgause a cheeky grin.

“What do you think?” she waggled her eyebrows. “Or are you too much of an ice queen to know?”

“Gwen!” Merlin hissed, shocked at her behaviour.

“What I meant,” Morgause’s eyebrows were drawn dangerously close together. “Was what are you doing _here_?”

“Why shouldn’t we be here?” Lance asked, lifting his head up from Gwen’s chest. “It _is_ my room, after all.”

“We specifically told you to seek other accommodation tonight,” Morgause’s tone was icy. “You never seemed to have trouble following this request before.”

Gwen snorted at the word ‘request’.

“Maybe we just got tired of being ordered around all the time,” she said sweetly.

Morgause’s nostrils flared.

“Oh don’t worry,” she said, her voice tight. “When I _order_ you, you’ll know about it.”

Gwen and Lance both suppressed a shiver at her tone.

“Ah well!” Merlin said in a falsely cheery voice. “You’re here now so nothing can be done about it. Wine, anyone?”

Morgause was still watching Gwen and Lance with a narrowed gaze.

“Just make sure you don’t do it again,” she said, before turning around and marching off towards Merlin’s side of the room.

Merlin cast the others a helpless look before meekly following.

Lance and Gwen exchanged a look.

They were _definitely_ going to do this again.

…

Things came to a head just over a week later. Lance and Gwen had not let up in their covert campaign against Morgause. They had pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed. They had made sure to be around Merlin and Morgause all the time, despite the fact that being around her and an insipid Merlin made them want to shoot themselves. They did everything they knew that Morgause hated. They threw out the classical music CDs that she had made Merlin buy and replaced them with Aqua and A*Teens CDs. Whenever Morgause wanted to watch a pretentious and inscrutable French film, they brought out a Jean Claude Van Damme movie or the latest straight-to-video Steven Seagal flick (they both knew of Merlin’s odd love for rubbish action films). Whenever Morgause wanted to watch the news or a documentary, they sat resolutely in front of the TV, watching _Blind Date_ and _What Not to Wear_ and _Pop Idol_. One memorable day, they sat and watched the entire first series of _Big Brother_ , followed by the latest episodes of _Celebrity Big Brother_ and even considered following that with _Brother’s Little Brother_. Needless to say, their brains almost melted - they could actually feel their brain cells being slowly decimated even as they watched. But it was all worth it as they saw Morgause’s lip curl higher and higher with every offence against her senses that she witnessed them committing. Slowly but surely, they were driving her towards boiling point.

It finally ended the day that Morgause decided that she couldn’t take the idiocy and lack of culture anymore. Both couples were sitting in the same room. Morgause and Merlin were on one side, reading Plutarch for fun (at least, Morgause was; Merlin simply looked miserable). On the other side, Gwen and Lance were cuddling and whispering together. The final straw came when they suddenly decided that it would be a good idea to spontaneously burst into song.

The fact that the song in question just happened to be ‘Barbie Girl’ obviously didn’t help matters in the least.

Morgause could stand it no longer.

“Stop it!” she snarled, abruptly standing up and marching over to Gwen and Lance’s side of the room. “Just stop it!”

Lance and Gwen trailed off from their ruminations on how fantastic it would be to be made out of plastic and stared up at her in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” Lance asked politely.

The vein in Morgause’s head almost exploded.

“ _Wrong_?” she hissed. “ _Wrong_? How can you even – that is it. I’ve had it. I will _not_ be subjected to your crassness, your complete and utter _vulgarity_ any longer. I have refrained from saying all of this before, as you are friends of Merlin’s but now I realise the truth of it – you have been holding him back this whole time. Do you know how much effort I have put into expunging all of his bad habits and mannerisms? I will _not_ have all my hard work be flushed down the drain by you … _brainless primates_. This is it. I am going to forbid Merlin from ever seeing you two again!” She turned away from their appalled faces and glared sternly at Merlin. “Say goodbye, Merlin. You are to move out of here immediately and never speak to these delinquents ever again.”

She strode past Merlin to collect her bag, leaving Merlin to just stand there, an odd look on his face.

Lance and Gwen clutched at each other’s hands, apprehension on their faces. This was it. This was the moment where they found out whether their friendship of a year was worth more than Merlin’s relationship of a few months with Morgause. Suddenly Gwen didn’t feel as confident about the plan as she had before.

“Merlin!” Morgause snapped, having gathered up her belongings. “Come!”

Merlin made an odd noise at the back of his throat.

“Merlin!” Morgause barked once more.

Something in Merlin snapped.

“It may have escaped your notice, Morgause,” he said in a falsely light tone of voice. “But I should really bring it to your attention that _I am not a bloody dog_!”

Everyone stared at Merlin in surprise. Even Merlin looked slightly shocked at his own outburst.

“Merlin …” Morgause sounded slightly impatient but Merlin ignored this.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No. You know what? No. I have done so much for you. I have watched those stupid French films of yours – which, by the way, are _completely pretentious_! I have practically _killed_ myself trying to read those books of Greek philosophy that _I don’t actually understand a word of_ and I’ve done whatever you have asked, even though it all made me bloody miserable. I’ve acted how you wanted, I did whatever you expected me to do, and I’ve even stood by and acted like a complete _dick_ while you were rude to my friends. I’ve put up with all of that! And now, this one thing – this one thing – putting up with my best friends in the whole world – you won’t do for me? Well then, I’m sorry Morgause, but no. This time I’m putting my foot down. I am not saying goodbye to my friends.”

Morgause was staring at Merlin in shock. So were Gwen and Lance.

“Don’t be foolish,” Morgause said after a moment, her eyes narrowed. “Stop behaving like a petty child, Merlin. Can’t you see that I am doing this all for you? To make you _better_? So you can stop living like an uneducated slob and actually achieve your potential?”

Merlin gave a dry laugh.

“Make me _better_?” he snorted. “Morgause – I’m fine just the way I am. I _like_ reading _Harry Potter_ when I’m bored instead of picking up the Marxist manifesto. I _like_ playing video games instead of attending wine tasting sessions. I _like_ getting rat-arsed at the end of the night drinking beer and doing shots instead of taking dainty little sips of sherry. I like _me_. That’s who I _am_. And the thing is-” he hesitated, a fragile expression coming over his face. “The thing is, that if you don’t like those things about me too, then you don’t actually like _me_. You – you don’t want _me_. And I can’t believe that it’s taken me this long to realise that.”

For once Morgause looked like something a little less than her usual collected and unfazed self. Her eyes were wide and she looked ever so slightly vulnerable.

“Merlin,” she said again, this time in a gentler tone. “You are so much _better_ than all that. Can’t you see it?”

Merlin’s expression softened.

“It means a lot to me that you would think that,” he said gently. “But your definition of ‘better’ is completely subjective. I like you, Morgause, but you’re making me bloody miserable.”

At that, Morgause’s face hardened once more.

“Fine,” she snapped. “Have it your way. You choose ignorance and degeneracy instead of social superiority and enlightenment.” She turned an evil glare on the three occupants of the room. “You just wait, Merlin. You will regret siding with these degenerates soon enough, and when that happens, I will not lift a finger to help you. You will deserve everything that comes to you, and more.”

Merlin’s face darkened.

“Don’t you dare say anything about Gwen and Lance!” he said tightly. “They are my _friends_. And - you know what? - don’t worry. I will _not_ be regretting this decision! Goodbye Morgause, and please get the hell out of my room.”

Throwing him the most poisonous glare that had ever crossed a human being’s face, Morgause let out a snarl, flung the door open, and strode out.

Merlin followed her over to the door.

“Oh, and you know what?” he yelled as she stomped down the corridor. “Guys actually _like_ to be on top sometimes!” And with that, he slammed the door shut, ignoring the curious expressions of the occupants of the rooms further down the hall. Sighing, he slumped against the door and closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he saw Lance and Gwen regarding him almost nervously. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and stood up straighter.

“I know what you did,” he said quietly. “I know that you two were purposely behaving the way you did just to make her angry.”

Gwen had the grace to blush and look ashamed.

“And I can’t say that I am happy about that – about being manipulated by my two best friends.” Merlin waited a moment for that to sink in before he sighed. “On the other hand, the thing that I wanted to say most was: thank you.”

Gwen and Lance looked surprised.

Merlin made a face.

“God knows what would have happened if you two hadn’t made me see sense,” he said with a grimace. “Who knows how long I would have unknowingly suffered under Morgause?”

Lance snickered slightly at Merlin’s mention of being ‘under’ Morgause and Merlin actually gave a small smile at that.

“Haha, Lance,” he said, his lips tugging upwards. “But honestly you two. I am _so_ sorry for how I’ve been treating you for these past few months. _And_ about how I let Morgause treat you. That was just completely out of order and I shouldn’t have let it happen. I know that I’ve behaved like a right idiot and I don’t know how to make it up to you, but – I am truly, truly sorry and I hope that we can go back to being proper friends again. If you guys don’t feel like throwing me out on my arse, that is.”

Gwen and Lance exchanged an indulgent look.

“Well,” Lance said slowly. “There is _one_ way you can make it up to us …”

Merlin raised an eyebrow and prepared to listen.

And that was how Merlin got well and truly trashed for the first time in months, with his two best friends right beside him every step of the way.

He couldn’t remember ever being happier.

 

 

Lance finished the story and leaned back. Everyone turned to look at Merlin.

“… I have no words,” Morgana said, looking at Merlin like she had never seen him before.

Merlin went bright red and avoided everyone else’s eyes.

“Mate,” Arthur was staring at Merlin looking just as incredulous. “That is possibly one of the most pathetic things that I have ever heard!” He shook his head in disbelief. “All I can say is that that must have been some kind of spectacular sex she gave you.”

Merlin shrugged and made noncommittal motions with his head.

“And hold on.” Morgana was frowning now. “Now, after all this time, this Morgause person suddenly trips back into your life and instead of telling her to get lost you go and _ask her out on a date_?”

“It’s not a date!” Merlin protested yet again as four pairs of angry and disapproving eyes turned on him.

“Tell me Merlin,” Gwen asked him sweetly. “Are you going to a nice restaurant?”

“Well,” Merlin replied uncomfortably. “Yes …”

“And are you going to be paying for the meal?” Morgana asked.

“I – well, it’s what I plan to – that is, if she doesn’t have any objections-”

“Do you plan to sleep with her at the end of the night?” Arthur demanded bluntly.

Merlin flushed bright red.

“You can’t just – you shouldn’t just assume-” he stuttered out, embarrassed.

“Do you plan to see her again?” Lance’s voice was quiet but the others instantly quietened as they awaited Merlin’s response.

“I-” Merlin looked up at them, a rather helpless expression adorning his face. “I don’t know.”

They were all silent for a while after that.

“Well,” Gwen said at last, slightly stiffly. “You know how Lance and I feel about this. I know you’ve said that she’s changed since then, Merlin, but I can’t help doubting that. Someone like Morgause – they won’t change their opinions very easily. And we – we love you just the way you are. We don’t want anyone to change that. Again.”

“We don’t want you to get hurt,” Lance added softly. Morgana nodded at this and even Arthur looked quite serious.

Merlin gave a little sigh.

“I know,” he admitted. “And I can’t say that I was too happy to see her either. But while we were talking – it’s just … she seems that she genuinely wants to change, you know? And if I can help her with that – if I can at least help her gain some sort of closure about what happened between us and explain it to her – then maybe she can be happy. Because when I think about it now, she can’t have been a very happy person. I was like that for only a few months and I was utterly miserable. Imagine being that way for your entire life. I can’t – I _won’t_ give up on an opportunity to help her just because she might not have known any better a decade ago.”

There was silence around the table again.

Surprisingly, Arthur was the first one to speak.

“You’re a good person, Merlin,” he said, and when he spoke his voice was low and serious, not a hint of mockery about him. “I only hope – I’d like to think that if I ever badly messed things up between us, then you would find it in your heart to do the same for me and give me a second chance.”

Gwen, Lance and Morgana exchanged confused glances. Merlin gazed at Arthur, slightly concerned. He slowly reached across the table and grasped Arthur’s hand.

“Arthur,” he said softly, though still confused. “Oh Arthur, of _course_ I would. You know that. I could never stay mad at you – at _any_ of you.”

Arthur gave him a tight little smile before pulling his hand away from Merlin’s grasp. Gwen and Lance both still looked slightly puzzled but Morgana’s eyes were narrowed in thought.

Conversation slowed after that, everyone too wrapped up in their own thoughts to speak very much. They sat there in silence as they finished off the last dregs of their drinks. They disbanded for the night pretty soon after that.

 

*

The next day they were all ready and present at The Great Dragon, all of them curious to see what the infamous Morgause was now like. Merlin sat on the end seat of the booth, looking ever so slightly nervous, but determined all the same. At approximately ten minutes to seven, Merlin’s head shot up and he smiled.

“She’s here!” he announced.

The others immediately turned to face the entrance to the pub, their eyes narrowed, scrutinising everyone who was entering.

At the entrance to The Great Dragon stood a pretty blonde woman with black-rimmed eyes and an intense stare.

“Her make-up techniques haven’t changed much then,” Gwen murmured under her breath to Lance.

Lance nodded but he was frowning. Morgause was dressed in a light, pretty white dress with pale green and pink flower prints on it. That was definitely not the sort of thing that he remembered the Morgause of their university years wearing. She looked much less hostile than he remembered as well.

Merlin stood up and waved at her, catching Morgause’s eye. Her lips made a slight move upwards as she caught sight of him, but her eyes remained distant. Merlin waited for her to approach, a nervous smile on his lips.

“Morgause,” he said, moving forward to kiss her on the cheek. She allowed him to do so before turning to the others. Merlin quickly introduced them. “These are my friends Arthur and Morgana and … you know Gwen and Lance, of course.”

“Indeed,” Morgause said, her tone and facial expressions giving nothing away. Lance and Gwen regarded her nervously. Morgause turned to Arthur and Morgana, who were watching with curious eyes. “It is … good to meet you,” she said, slightly hesitantly.

Arthur gave her a cautious nod, while Morgana gave her a much more encouraging smile, which seemed to get through to Morgause, as she smiled back in return. Taking a breath, Morgause then turned back to Gwen and Lance.

“Hello again,” she said, and was it their imaginations or could they detect a small undercurrent of apprehension in her voice? “I – I am truly glad to have got the chance to meet you again.”

“Hmm,” Gwen responded coolly. She didn’t seem to return the sentiment. “I see.”

Morgause stared at her blankly for a minute, before her eyes flickered over to Merlin, who gave her an encouraging smile.

“Hello,” Lance spoke after a moment, squeezing Gwen’s hand when the corners of her mouth turned down. “I’m – surprised to see you after all this time.”

“Yes,” Morgause said slowly, accepting the seat that Merlin offered her. “I suppose you are. I – I remember well what happened the day we last saw each other.”

The others threw each other covert glances.

“Oh?” Gwen’s voice was sharp. “And what exactly do you remember?”

Morgause didn’t speak. Merlin bit his lip before leaning over to lay an encouraging hand on her knee, a move which the others all noted. Morgause looked at him before nodding and turning back to Gwen.

“I remember that I was horribly rude,” she said bluntly. “I said some terrible things and I behaved extremely badly to you. To all three of you,” she said, including Lance and Merlin in her glance. “I realise that now.”

“Oh?” Gwen’s face was stony but the others could see the small cracks of surprise that were appearing in her façade.

“Yes,” Morgause bowed her golden head. “I didn’t realise it at the time – I was terribly angry with all of you. But now I know – what happened that day was the best thing that could have happened to me.”

The others all stared at her in shock. All but Merlin, who smiled almost tenderly at her and gripped her hand, while she returned the pressure. Despite the tameness of the gesture, it was perhaps more intimate than any action or touch they had shared at any point during their actual relationship.

“What – what do you mean?” Gwen asked, her surprise now fully apparent on her face.

“I thought about that day a lot,” Morgause explained. “At first, I admit, my thoughts of you all weren’t the most pleasant. I was angry and felt humiliated and cheated by Merlin choosing you over me. But then I began to think about what Merlin had said,” her voice grew soft and the others were stunned to see her eyes grow slightly wet. “And I – I realised that it was true. Everything he said about me was right. I _had_ been unfair to him. I had manipulated and moulded him into something he wasn’t and he had taken it all without complaint just because he cared – or at least, because he _thought_ that he cared – about me. And I – I hadn’t even thought about it – about _any_ of it.” Her voice became slightly bitter. “It was a bit of a shock, I can tell you. To have a sudden revelation like that – and one which doesn’t show you in the best of lights … I was upset for a very long time.”

There was silence around the table. Lance and Gwen looked shocked, while Merlin looked rather fond and proud. Arthur and Morgana glanced at each other – they both felt slightly out of place here.

“Go on,” Merlin said gently, encouraging her. Morgause gave him a tight smile and continued.

“I won’t lie,” she said. “It’s been hard. I’ve never been the most patient person and all my life … Well, it’s hard to change when you’ve always been a certain way and that’s the way you were supposed to be – that you were _expected_ to be. My parents weren’t the most affectionate of people, and I suppose that that trait was passed on to me. I treated people the way that I treated them because that was the only way that I knew how. Even as a young girl I worked at being more serious and grown up than I actually was to impress my parents – they never did have much time for me as a child. I guess before I knew it, I didn’t have to _try_ to be that way anymore. I just was. I didn’t even realise that I was lonely until Merlin dumped me.”

By this time, even Gwen’s iron disapproval had given way into pity and understanding. Even Arthur was gazing straight at Morgause, all discomfort forgotten, his eyes serious and piercing as he regarded her.

Morgause looked down at her lap, her face still composed and blank of all emotion. Merlin squeezed her hand again.

“Hold on,” he said, giving her a small smile. “I’ll go and get us a drink. What would you like?”

Morgause looked up at Merlin and her expression softened.

“A pint, please,” she said, a small smile playing around her mouth. It grew even wider at Merlin’s responding brilliant grin. Lance and Gwen stared at each other in surprise. Old Morgause had _hated_ beer with a passion. It was this out of everything that Morgause had said previously that finally convinced Gwen that Morgause had indeed changed for the better.

“Oh you poor thing!” she gushed, reaching forward to clasp Morgause’s hands between her own. Morgause looked startled at being touched but she allowed it. Merlin regarded them with a fond gaze before making his way over to Old Kilgharrah to order the drinks. He was surprised to find himself joined there by Arthur.

“There’s too much cooing and fluttering going on over there,” Arthur explained, jerking his head back at their table. “Honestly, Gwen and Lance are as bad as each other. Even Morgana is being all … _sympathetic_.” He said the last word as if in distaste, but Merlin knew Arthur enough to know that the real reason he had escaped was so that he could stop himself from joining in with the sympathy. Merlin had glanced at him while Morgause had been talking and he had seen the way that her speech seemed to have struck a chord with Arthur.

“So,” Arthur said after a moment, while they were waiting for their drinks. “Do you – do you think that maybe you and she will …” He trailed off.

Merlin shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said cautiously. “I don’t know if she wants that yet. I don’t know if I want that. And I don’t know what the others think, either.”

Arthur seemed to be waging some internal war within himself and his jaw twitched slightly as he mentally debated whether or not he should speak. He finally seemed to come to some sort of resolution.

“If you like her,” he said at last, sounding both reluctant and uncomfortable. “If you like her and you think that she’s changed – then … then you shouldn’t worry. Forget what everyone else thinks. It – it took me a while to realise that. I – I was like Morgause. I understand why she acted the way she did, why she wanted to impress her parents – I was the same. It took me a long time to realise that I wasn’t happy – that I wasn’t myself. I was so worried about what my father would think if I told him that I liked men as well as women. I dreaded telling him for so long – I tried so hard to suppress that part of myself …”

Merlin felt a tug in his stomach and felt an overwhelming need to place his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. However, Arthur’s back was tense and he wasn’t looking at him, so Merlin felt that it best not to do anything just yet.

“Did you tell him?” he asked at last.

Arthur gave a wry smile.

“I did, in the end,” he said, his eyes still bright and focused away from Merlin. “Damn near took all of my courage. He wasn’t thrilled, as you can probably guess,” he threw Merlin a dry look. “But he told me that as long as I kept my private life out of my business life, then he didn’t care what I did in my own time.” He snorted. “And doesn’t that just sum up our relationship? He simply doesn’t care. I can be the rudest, most arrogant son of a bitch out there, I can sleep with every single man and woman in the city, and he won’t give a damn as long as it doesn’t hurt business. Very pragmatic, is my father.”

Merlin stared at Arthur, not knowing what to say. Arthur rarely talked about his family, and if he did, it was always done grudgingly and with as little detail given as possible. But here … Merlin realised that he was finally being allowed to see just why Arthur was the way that he was. Before he could do anything, or lay a reassuring hand on his arm, Arthur gave a snort.

“Look at me,” he said with false joviality. “I came here to talk about Morgause and here I am talking about myself. I know how much you love hearing about me Merlin, but you really shouldn’t encourage me.” He paused and for a brief moment he was serious again. “What I came here to say was this – Morgause actually seems nice. She seems to have genuinely changed from the person that you knew at uni and I think that you should give her another chance, if that’s what you want. Even if Gwen or Lance or Morgana say that you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t listen to them, okay?” His eyes bore into Merlin’s, piercing him. “Don’t listen to anyone else but yourself. A person’s past, their gender … if you think about it, none of it really matters in the end.”

Merlin’s mouth was dry and his lungs felt tight.

“Arthur …” he breathed, not knowing what it was that he wanted to say but knowing that there was something that he _should_ , something that was buried deep within him that wanted to be let out.

Then Arthur gave a laugh and he was once more back to his usual self.

“Not that you’ll have any problems with them,” he said lightly, indicating the table with their friends. “Look at them! They’re fawning all over Morgause now!”

Merlin glanced over at the table to see that this was indeed true. Gwen, Lance and Morgana were all looking quite welcoming now, and Morgause actually had a shy smile on her face. Merlin sighed in relief just as Kilgharrah arrived with the drinks.

“Shall we …?” Merlin asked Arthur hesitantly. He was torn between running away from this serious, vulnerable Arthur who made him feel odd things in his chest and staying at the bar and trying to explore this seldom-seen facet of his friend.

Arthur looked pensively at Merlin for a moment before letting out a wry huff of breath. Reaching forward, he snagged a pint of beer from the group that Kilgharrah had just set down in front of them.

“Cheers, mate,” he said with a twitch of his lips, raising his glass and taking a deep drink.

Sighing, Merlin gathered up the rest of the drinks and made his way over to their table, Arthur trailing after him. Conversation flowed a lot more smoothly once the drinks were there to pave the way, and Arthur’s words soon fell to the back of Merlin’s mind. A short time later, he and Morgause bid goodbye to the others and left for dinner.

Merlin felt eyes on his back on his way out but when he turned back to the table his friends sat at, Morgana, Gwen and Lance were all deep in conversation together and Arthur was gazing into his pint glass, a slight frown on his face. Ignoring the strange impulse to smooth the frown away, Merlin placed a hand at Morgause’s waist and led her out of the pub.

He could deal with these strange feelings some other time.

 

*

It was a few hours later when Merlin finally returned, his pace slow and his expression thoughtful. He ordered a drink from Kilgharrah and ambled slowly over to his usual seat. He had expected the booth to be empty and so was surprised when he saw that he wasn’t in fact alone – Arthur was still there, sitting by himself at the table and looking as full of thought as he had when Merlin had left the pub with Morgause. Arthur’s head jerked up as Merlin set his drink down, and he acknowledged Merlin with a wary nod.

“Surprised to see you here,” Arthur’s tone strived for casual. “Thought you’d still be with Morgause.”

“Nah,” Merlin shrugged. “She had to get back home.”

“Oh,” Arthur was silent for a while. When he could take it no longer, he abruptly spoke again. “So are you going to see her again?”

Merlin blinked.

“Yeah, I suppose,” he replied distractedly. “I mean, we exchanged numbers and all that, so yeah … I guess I will see her around sometime.”

Arthur sank back into silence. Unsure of what was bothering him, Merlin continued to sip his drink quietly.

“I’m glad you decided to give her another chance,” Arthur said abruptly, his voice slightly gruff. “She … seems quite nice.”

“Oh,” Merlin didn’t know what else to say. Arthur wasn’t usually so invested in other people. “Yes, she is. She’s changed a lot since university.”

“Are you getting back together with her?” The question seemed to burst out unasked for, as if Arthur couldn’t keep the question in any longer. “I mean – are you two together now?”

Merlin stared at him.

“What?” he asked, surprised. “Oh, no! Didn’t the others say? She told them while we were getting drinks and she explained her situation to me over dinner.”

Arthur was frowning.

“No,” he said, his lips turned downwards. “What is it?”

Merlin couldn’t help the soft smile that stole over his lips.

“She’s already with someone,” he said, his eyes fond. “She’s not married – if there’s one thing that hasn’t changed about her, it’s her stance on marriage! She’s even got a kid. Can you believe it? Morgause has a child! A little boy – Mordred, his name is.”

Arthur was staring at him.

“And – and you don’t mind?” he asked in a cautious tone.

Merlin shook his head.

“No,” he reassured him. “I like Morgause and I am glad she’s happy now, but it wouldn’t have worked between us. I always knew that – I just didn’t fully realise it until today.”

Arthur watched him with an inscrutable look on his face.

“Hmm,” he said at last, trying to inject a bit of humour into his words only to have them come out sounding slightly uncertain. “So you didn’t fall back in love with her then? I only ask because you sort of have a habit of falling in love with women after less than a night.”

Merlin’s nose scrunched up.

“I was never in love with Morgause,” he said with a laugh. “Infatuated? Yes. But I was never in love with her.”

“There’s a difference?” Arthur asked with a raised eyebrow.

Merlin rolled his eyes.

“ _Yes_ , there is a difference,” he said dryly. “Which you would know if you had ever been in love!”

“I’ve been in love.”

The smile fell from Merlin’s face.

“Er – what?” he asked, sure that he had heard wrong.

“I said that I _have_ been in love,” Arthur’s voice was calm and measured and Merlin suddenly realised that Arthur had been in the pub for a while now and was quite possibly more than a little tipsy.

“Oh?” Merlin asked lightly. “And when was this?”

“Many years back.”

Merlin waited for Arthur to elaborate but when nothing more was forthcoming, he prompted Arthur on.

“And who was the lucky girl … or boy?”

“Girl,” Arthur affirmed. “Her name was Sophia. I was young and stupid and still thought – I still believed in things like love and all that nonsense.” He gave a snort. “Sophia cured me of all that. I was in love with her, thought of proposing to her and everything.” He nodded at Merlin’s wide-eyed stare. “I know, I can’t believe it either. I was going to do it, and all. Right up until I found out that the bitch was cheating on me behind my back and that she was only with me because my dad was loaded. Not the happiest day of my life, I can tell you.”

“I can imagine!” Merlin’s eyes were wide with shock and sympathy.

“Yeah,” Arthur said with a bitter twist of his lips. “Taught me a lesson about love, I can tell you. Showed me that father was right about one thing, at least.” He paused and glared moodily at his glass. “But then now there’s _you_.”

Merlin felt the breath get sucked out of him.

“Me?” he breathed, his heart suddenly beating fast.

“Yeah,” Arthur replied, still frowning at the glass. His eyes flicked up casually to Merlin’s. “What you said about love and infatuation being different.”

Merlin felt his shoulders slump. Relief, probably.

“It makes me think,” Arthur continued, slowly. “That what I felt for Sophia – it wasn’t actually _love_. It was more like an infatuation. What I felt for her – it’s nothing like … like what you felt for Freya, for example.”

“Oh,” Merlin said in a small voice. And then, after a moment, “So what does that mean?”

Arthur slowly raised his eyes.

“It means,” he said slowly. “That I need to think some things through. It means,” he paused significantly. “It means that I need another bloody drink.” And with that, he got up and made his way towards the bar, leaving Merlin alone and deep in thought at the table.

 

 **Little did I know that this conversation – this entire day’s conversation – would play a very important role in what happened next. You see, this day marked a huge change in my life – one that had been coming for a long time, though I hadn’t realised it - and it is because of this that I am now getting married in a few weeks.**

 **No doubt you were all shocked when you heard about it – I know I was. I admit, at the time I was kind of terrified. But every single one of you here today helped me get past that, and helped me to embrace one part of who I am and that is the only reason that I am standing here today, an engaged man. You all helped me make that one final step towards True Love.**

 **So, without further ado, let me tell you about how I met Gwaine.**

 

 

 **  
**

**HOW MERLIN MET GWAINE**

 

 _December 31, 2010_

After Morgause, Merlin met no one of any real consequence. He went out on a few dates and even slept with a few women, but he knew right from the start – as did the women in question – that none of these relationships had a future.

And so it was that he found himself alone at New Year’s Eve without a date and thus without someone to kiss at midnight. Which he couldn’t say that he was very happy about. The last thing he had wanted was to start the New Year whilst still being pathetically alone and single. Gwen and Lancelot were obviously together, Arthur was sure to have half a dozen names in his little black book that he could call (but would probably scoff at the idea and instead relish the challenge of scoring on the day – not that it was that much of a challenge, if he were being honest). To Merlin’s secret chagrin, even Morgana had a date - though Merlin supposed that by now Leon could _really_ be classed as a bona fide boyfriend rather than just a mere date.

 

 **Wait, hold on. I never told you about Morgana and Leon, did I? I will make it brief as most of you probably already know the story. Let’s rewind a little bit to October of 2009 …**

 

 _October 2009_

It had been months since Merlin and Freya had broken up but from the way that Merlin had been moping around one would never have guessed. He wouldn’t even so much as _look_ at another woman.

He wouldn’t so much as look at _Morgana_. Not even when she purposely wore that fabulously low-cut dress that showed off her magnificent cleavage to all and sundry and which had kept Arthur mesmerised for the entire night.

Morgana was not pleased.

She had soon grown tired of Merlin’s permanent pout and had relocated to the bar. Despite the fact that sorrow suited Merlin wonderfully and brought out the hollows of his cheekbones, there was only so much moping that Morgana could take. _Especially_ when _she_ wasn’t the cause of said moping. She had quickly volunteered to get drinks and had slid out of the booth hastily, leaving Merlin in the capable hands of Lance, Gwen and strangely enough, Arthur. Not that she was complaining. She just hoped that they would all be too occupied to notice if she sat at the bar and had a quick stiff drink before she returned.

She had just received a scotch on the rocks (Merlin had been really depressing and clearly hadn’t noticed the new top she had on) when she felt a small tap on her shoulder. She turned around with a sigh and came face to face with man with curly tawny-coloured hair and a soft, fuzzy beard.

“Um-” he started but Morgana cut him off.

“Sorry,” she said, he voice cool with practised dismissal. “I’m not interested.”

The man opened his mouth but then snapped it shut, his cheeks going slightly red.

“Oh. Well – be that as it may-”

Morgana frowned.

“Didn’t you hear me?” She glared. “I said I’m not interested. Now can you please go and find someone else to bother?”

The man looked like he genuinely contemplated doing so, but his determination prevented him from leaving.

“I’m sorry to _be_ a bother,” he started again, his cheeks still red. “But I don’t think you understand – you see, this is-”

“Enough!” Morgana snapped. “I’m _really_ not in the mood right now!”

She was just about to turn away when Old Kilgharrah turned to her.

“Here’s your drink, my dear,” he said with a nod, before turning away.

Morgana stared at the glass he had set down. Then she stared at the half-finished drink in her hand. Then, reluctantly, she stared up at the rather apologetic-looking man in front of her.

“Sorry,” he said, making a face and shrugging. “But I _did_ order before you.”

Morgana felt heat rush into her cheeks.

“Oh god,” she groaned. “I just – and then I was-”

“Yes,” the man confirmed with a nod.

Morgana let out another groan.

“Here,” she said, pushing the new glass over to him. “And the next one’s on me. I am so sorry for – for just assuming that …” She trailed off.

The man glanced at her and shrugged.

“It’s a fair assumption,” he acknowledged, before sitting himself down. Morgana felt strangely warm at the compliment.

“I’m Morgana,” she said, introducing herself almost shyly.

The man smiled warmly at her. It was a nice smile, a friendly and trustworthy smile.

“I’m Leon,” he replied.

“And I’m sorry I stole your drink-” Morgana began but Leon waved her off.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a harmless mistake and I still got my drink in the end. Besides, its not completely your fault – my friend was supposed to be here looking after it until I got back from the loos, but apparently he couldn’t be bothered.” He pulled out his mobile and checked it. “Ah, there it is: _He’s not alone. Again. Found temporary replacement, G._ ”

Morgana arched an eyebrow.

“Care to explain?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.

Leon gave a slightly embarrassed laugh.

“Oh it’s just my friend,” he said with a wry grin. “He’s sort of slightly obsessed with this guy who comes here, is all.”

“Hmm,” Morgana hummed thoughtfully. “Big-gay-love-at-first-sight sort of obsessed or the creepy crazy stalkery kind?”

Leon chuckled. It was a nice sound.

“The first,” he reassured her, before frowning. “Though perhaps a bit of the latter as well. He’s a bit odd, my friend. Good bloke though.”

“I’m sure,” Morgana gave Leon a smile. “So why hasn’t he approached this guy yet? Is he shy?”

Leon let out a burst of laughter.

“What, him? Oh no! Not at all. It’s just … I don’t know, really. He seems to really like this guy. Apparently he keeps seeing him everywhere so he thinks it’s like – I don’t know – _destiny_ or something. Only he hasn’t even spoken to the guy, so I don’t know why he’s being like this. He says he’s tried to speak to him but every time he sees him he’s always surrounded by other people. And he’s most likely straight, which is a whole other problem.”

“Yeah,” Morgana said softly, glancing back at the table where Arthur was listening to Merlin with a focused intensity. “That would be a problem.” She shook her head. “What about you? Do you believe in that stuff?”

“Stuff?” Leon’s thick eyebrows knitted together.

“Yeah – destiny and all that. Love at first sight.”

Leon looked slightly awkward.

“No – no, I don’t think so,” he answered at last.

“You don’t _think_ so?” Morgana asked, amused.

“Well,” Leon said defensively. “I won’t know until it happens, will I?”

Morgana frowned.

“No,” she said morosely, taking another gulp of her drink and forcing herself not to glance back at Merlin. “I guess you won’t.” She was silent for a moment. “Your friend,” she said suddenly. “He didn’t get to speak to the guy he wanted?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Leon answered cautiously.

“What did he do, then?” Morgana demanded.

Leon blinked at her, then shrugged.

“He found a replacement,” he said blankly. “He went home with someone else.”

Morgana paused. Slowly, her eyes slid to Leon, who was watching her with equal parts curiosity and concern. Gripping her glass tightly, Morgana tipped it back and swallowed the last of the scotch all in one go.

“Well, Leon,” she said, standing up, a determined expression on her face. “How would you like to do the same?”

Leon blinked.

“Er … what?”

Morgana sighed.

“How would you like to take me home and have sex with me?” she asked, her arms folded.

Leon’s eyes widened. His eyes flickered over to the now-empty glass of scotch.

“Don’t worry, it’s the only one I had. I’m sober.” Morgana reassured him, her arms still folded.

Leon chewed his lip for a moment before glancing back at Morgana.

“Okay,” he said at last. “I would like that very much.”

Morgana gave him a smile and taking him by the hand, she led him out of the pub for what was supposed to be a thoroughly enjoyable, no-strings-attached night of fantastic sex. And while it indeed was thoroughly enjoyable fantastic sex, the no-strings-attached business kind of went down the drain the moment that Morgana woke up the next morning, snuggling deeper into the covers and cuddling up into the soft warmth beside her. She had just a minute of feeling warm, happy and safe before her eyes flew open and her mouth clamped shut. Biting her lip, she turned her head – only to see a rumpled (and actually quite adorable-looking) Leon curled up around her, his arm cradling her head even in his sleep.

As she analysed her feelings and realised that she felt nothing short of well-rested and content, Morgana found just one word running through her mind.

 _Fuck._

 

 **And that, ladies and gents, is how Morgana was dragged kicking and screaming into the world of adult, committed relationships.**

 **But now enough about her. Where were we? Oh yes, New Year.**

 

It was the eve before New Year’s Eve and Merlin still didn’t have a date. He had asked all the girls that he knew and even some that he didn’t. He had even resumed his position as Arthur’s wingman, much to Arthur’s delight, but even that had failed - it seemed that absolutely everyone had plans for New Year’s Eve. Everyone, that is, except for him. It was depressing. He stared down at his drink gloomily.

“Cheer up,” Arthur elbowed him. “If you really badly want, _I_ can kiss you at midnight!”

Merlin’s mouth gave a weak twitch.

“Thanks for the thought,” he said heavily. “It’s much appreciated but quite unnecessary. I’m quite sure there will be plenty of other people there who you would _much_ rather kiss.”

Arthur’s face showed no emotion. He merely shrugged and went back to immersing himself in his people-watching.

“What are we doing tomorrow night, anyway?” Morgana asked with a curious frown.

Arthur let out a snort and glanced back at the rest of the table.

“The same thing we do every night,” he intoned. “We try to take over the – no, sorry. I meant: we go to The Green Dragon and get pissed.”

Merlin and Lance both let out snorts, while Gwen and Morgana rolled their eyes – Gwen affectionately and Morgana irritably.

“Really?” she almost whined. “Again?”

“Hey!” Lance said, offended. “It’s a tradition!”

“Yeah, but-” Morgana paused when she saw the four other faces staring back at her with narrowed eyes. She sighed. “Never mind.”

“Excellent!” Lance said happily. Conversation resumed once more and Merlin settled back into his state of gloom, trying desperately not to remember how this time last year the idea of worrying about a midnight kiss was laughable. Glumly, he took another sip of beer, keeping an eye out for any attractive single females that might glance his way.

By the end of the evening, he had finally resigned himself to the fact that this year he wouldn’t be getting a kiss at midnight.

 

*

Less than twenty-four hours later and Merlin was back at the pub. Only this time, he was sitting on his own at the bar, casting dark looks at the happy couples around him. He _had_ been sitting with his friends, but they had slowly become more and more involved with their dates for the night as time passed. Even Arthur had left his side – something that he had scarcely done the whole night – when the attractive girl he had roped into being his date had decided that they both needed some time together in the bathroom to get reacquainted. Merlin, by now well-versed in the honour code that came with being Arthur’s wingman, made sure to give Arthur his blessing – bro’s before ho’s their motto may be, but there was no reason for Arthur to remain at a sulky Merlin’s side when he had actually managed to pull someone.

After Arthur had gone, Merlin had been left with Gwen, Lance, Morgana and Leon. Gwen and Lance were unbearably cute together on a normal day but today, Merlin just found them impossible tonight. Worse still, even _Morgana_ seemed to be possessed by strange affectionate feelings and was actually _giggling_ and _cuddling_ with Leon – in _public_. Unable to help the feelings of jealousy and – yes, bitterness – Merlin had left the table, saying that he needed to refill his drink.

And so that’s where he was. In the pub, alone, drinking whiskey. Again, alone. It was horribly depressing.

Staring into his whiskey glass glumly, Merlin decided that his New Year’s resolution should be to actively head-hunt Love. No longer would he sneer at personal ads or turn his nose up at speed-dating. He’d open his arms to blind dates and would even welcome his position as Arthur’s wingman, if it helped him on his quest. He _refused_ to spend another New Year’s Eve alone. If worst came to worst, he was going to order a mail-order bride from Russia and be done with it. Sure, it lacked romance, but surely he could wine and dine them _after_ the wedding? Merlin grimaced but by now he’d had just enough alcohol in his system so that it didn’t seem like a _completely_ awful idea. Making up his mind, Merlin took hold of his whiskey glass and drank to his new resolution.

“You look like a man who has just come to a very important decision in his life,” someone said at his shoulder and Merlin turned around to see a stranger with a very familiar face. Merlin frowned, trying to place him. When he did, it was like a light bulb had gone off in his head.

“You!” he said. “It’s _you_! I know you! I’ve see you before!”

The man smiled. It was a very charming smile.

“Yes, you have,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “We’ve seen each other around quite a bit.”

Merlin’s brow wrinkled. And then he remembered.

 _  
_

_March 2008_

Merlin was sitting alone in the booth at The Great Dragon, moping over the disappearance of the mystery girl at Gwen and Lance’s wedding and wondering whether or not he should call Morgana. Scrutinising the patrons of the bar, his eyes fell upon a very handsome man with a scruffy beard and hair that seemed to be a walking shampoo advert and for some reason he couldn’t look away. The man, ordering at the bar, glanced up and caught Merlin’s eye and smiled. Merlin, unable to resist, smiled back and proceeded to raise his glass at the man, mirroring his actions.

Then Morgana suddenly arrived, distracting him, and when Merlin next looked back, the man was gone.

 

 _June 2008_

Merlin and Freya were at the park, walking together hand in hand and simply enjoying being in the others’ presence. Merlin had just whispered something sweet into Freya’s ear and she had just responded with a blush and a breathy laugh when they both heard a loud “Watch out!” yelled in their direction. They both immediately ducked, just as a football soared past them. Turning around, Merlin saw a bare-chested, very familiar looking man jog up to them, a sheepish look on his face.

“Sorry!” he said with an apologetic smile, moving to collect the ball. His eyes, however, lingered on Merlin for a moment, probably caught in the same haze of semi-recognition that Merlin was. The man then scooped up the ball and gave it a good solid kick back at his friends, his lovely sleek hair whipping about with the movement. Tossing them a casual grin, he then started jogging away. Freya and Merlin’s eyes followed him, his muscles rippling and the sweat on his back glistening in the sun.

 

 _August 2008 – October 2009_

Merlin, at the bar with Freya and his friends, caught sight of a familiar face at various irregular points over the next year. It should be odd that he remembered this one occasional patron of The Great Dragon, but it’s strangely comforting.

They never speak or do more than occasionally nod.

 

 _November 2009_

Merlin decided to propose to Freya. The ring burning a hole in his pocket, he took calming breaths as he and Freya were guided to their table in the fancy restaurant where he would pop the question. Just as they sat, the couple opposite them rose and prepared to leave. Merlin saw a wave of swishy hair that stirred something in him but he was far too occupied with other matters to give it much thought.

He and Freya broke up.

 

 _December 2009 – August 2010_

Merlin sighted the man with the swishy hair every few months or so but neither of them was ever on their own when this happened.

They didn’t speak.

 

 _October 2010_

Merlin was at the local Blockbusters, trying to decide between _The Fast and the Furious, 2 Fast 2 Furious, The Fast and The Furious: Tokyo Drift_ and _Fast and Furious_. He knew that Arthur had asked him to rent one of them, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember which one and Arthur wasn’t answering his phone. Did it even matter which film he chose? He doubted it, but Arthur would sulk and moan for an age if he got it wrong. Merlin didn’t know what Arthur had against the idea of just downloading the bloody thing and God knows there was at least one part or another on every other evening on ITV2, but _nooooo_ that wasn’t good enough for His Royal Pratness and so Merlin had been sent out to rent the DVD, pick up a couple of bags on popcorn, and stock up on beer. Unfortunately, Merlin was already out of the house and on his way down to the shops by the time he thought to question why exactly it was _him_ walking down the street to do Arthur’s bidding and not bloody Arthur himself.

Gazing thoughtfully at the four films, Merlin was startled by a voice at his ear.

“Vin Diesel fan, are you?”

Merlin looked back to see the man with the swishy hair smiling at him. He sucked in a breath.

“Paul Walker fan, actually,” he replied as casually as he could.

The swishy-haired man let out a bark of laughter, his eyes crinkling up.

“And why not?” he grinned. “The man is the next Brando, I’m telling you!”

Merlin laughed in spite of himself.

“Hard choice, eh?” the man gestured at Merlin’s hands. “What with all of them being intriguing, intellectual cult classics whose plotlines don’t resemble each others in any way, right?”

“Exactly,” Merlin chuckled. “Though I’m renting it for a friend. I just can’t remember _which_ one he wanted me to get.”

“Your dilemma is an understandable one,” The man looked grave. “But it would not do to disappoint your friend in this matter, when he is quite clearly an ardent fan of Vin Diesel …”

“Or Paul Walker,” Merlin added.

“Or Paul Walker,” the man acknowledged. He wrinkled his nose. “If I were you, I’d go with _Fast and Furious_.”

“The first one?”

“No, that’s _**The** Fast and **the** Furious_. And you call yourself a Paul Walker fan!”

“Ah right, sorry. The latest one, then?”

“Yeah. That’s the one he’s the least likely to have seen, right? What with it being the most recent one and all.”

Merlin nodded thoughtfully.

“Sounds reasonable enough,” he said. “ _Fast and Furious_ it is!”

The man gave him a smile that for some reason made Merlin want to sigh dopily. He opened his mouth to say … something, when his phone went off and Merlin scrambled to get it. At that same moment, the man with the swishy hair was hailed from the shop’s doorway by a man who had an even scruffier beard than he did. He and Merlin glanced at each other almost apologetically before parting, one headed for the door and the other for the checkout.

It was only when Merlin arrived at Arthur’s that he realised that he didn’t know the stranger’s name.

(This disappointment was soon forgotten, however - trumped by the feeling of great irritation that Merlin felt when Arthur started railing that _This was not the film I wanted, Merlin_ and _Honestly, don’t you ever listen?_ and _How am I supposed to understand the sequels if I haven’t even seen the original one?_

… Two hours, ten minutes, and four beers later, Arthur admitted that perhaps it _wasn’t_ so very necessary to have seen the prequels in order to understand the plot of the film.

Merlin, on the other hand, had been asleep since well before the first half of the film had elapsed).

 

 _Back to December 31, 2010_

“Odd how we keep running into each other, isn’t it?” the stranger grinned.

“Yeah,” Merlin replied, slightly breathlessly. “Odd.”

“Mind if I sit down?” the man asked. Merlin, shaking himself out of his momentary daze, quickly nodded.

“You know,” the man said conversationally. “I think it’s high time that we got each other’s names. I can’t keep mentally calling you ‘Pretty Blue Eyes’ all the time, after all.”

Merlin flushed.

“Oh,” he said with a shy grin. “It’s Merlin. My name, I mean. I’m Merlin.”

The man flashed him a return grin.

“Gwaine,” he said amiably. “Pleasure to meet you, Merlin – at long last! I must say - I’ve tried to guess your name a hundred times but ‘Merlin’ never even crossed my mind. Unusual name, that. Suits you though, somehow.”

“Are you saying I’m unusual?” Merlin teased, ears slightly red at the idea that this man had actually spent time wondering what his name was. His stomach seemed to unconsciously tighten with pleasure.

The man wasn’t thrown in the least.

“Aren’t we all?” he asked airily. “Though,” he regarded Merlin through surprisingly keen eyes. “I’d warrant that ‘special’ is a better word than ‘unusual’.”

Merlin wasn’t quite sure what to say to that so he just smiled and took a sip of his drink.

“So tell me, Merlin,” Gwaine said, taking a sip of his beer. “Handsome fella like you, what are you doing sitting all on your lonesome here at the bar?”

Merlin winced, embarrassed.

“I don’t actually have a date for tonight,” he said at last, eyes fixed on his whiskey glass. “And – and all of my friends do.”

“Ah, that’d explain it,” Gwaine said with a nod of his head. “Frightful thing, being the only single man in a group full of happy couples. They all seem to think it their solemn duty to convert you into one of them.”

“But I _do_ want to be one of them!” Merlin found himself saying almost plaintively. “I really do! There’s nothing I’d like more that settling down with the right person and then growing old with them.”

“Hmm,” Gwaine watched Merlin thoughtfully. “Why haven’t you then?”

Merlin’s shoulders slumped.

“I … I guess I haven’t found the right person yet,” he grumbled, then hesitated before adding, “And when I thought I did, things didn’t quite work out.”

“Ah,” Gwaine was silent for a moment. “So what have you decided to do now then?”

Merlin narrowed his eyes at Gwaine.

“What makes you think that I’ve decided _anything_?” he asked suspiciously.

Gwaine threw him a disarming grin.

“I told you,” he said with a charming smile. “When I came up to you I told you that you looked like a man who had just made a very important decision. What was it? Oh – don’t tell me – you made a New Year’s resolution, didn’t you?”

Merlin scowled embarrassedly but didn’t deny it.

“Go on then, out with it,” Gwaine nudged Merlin in a friendly manner. “What’s your resolution then?”

For some reason, Merlin was unable to resist Gwaine’s easy teasing charm, so with a roll of his eyes, he gave in.

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” he said with a sigh. “I’m going to start putting myself out there as much as possible and not sit back and wait for the potential love of my life to come to _me_. I’m going to be proactive for once in my life. I’m going to do whatever it takes to get out there and go and find her before the year is out.”

“And if you don’t?”

“And if I don’t …” Merlin paused before taking a deep drink of his whiskey and speaking quickly in the hopes that Gwaine somehow wouldn’t pick up on what he said. “If I don’t find her than I will have to order a Russian mail-order bride and be done with it.”

Gwaine stared at him.

“Wow,” he said at last. “You’re … serious about the whole ‘wanting to be married thing.”

Merlin shifted.

“Well … yeah,” he said awkwardly. “Well – not necessarily about being married by the end of the year – I just want to be able to know that I am in a relationship with a future; that I’m with someone that I can see myself happily growing old with and know that in fifty years we will still love each other as much as we ever did.”

Gwaine was silent for a moment.

“Well,” he said after a while. “You’ve convinced me – who _wouldn’t_ want something like that?”

“I know, right?” Merlin sighed. “Only I don’t seem to have too much luck in that department. I couldn’t even get a date for tonight.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. Only twenty minutes till midnight. He grimaced and called for another whiskey.

“Let me get that,” Gwaine said when Kilgharrah set a glass in front of Merlin. He watched Merlin speculatively while he took the first sip. “You know, Merlin, it seems to me that you are leaving an avenue completely unexplored in your quest for love.”

“Really?” Merlin snorted. “What’s that then?”

Gwaine raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his drink.

“Men,” he said simply, staring at Merlin almost as if in challenge.

Merlin felt a small jolt inside him.

“Oh,” he said after a pause. “Oh, that’s not – I’m not … I mean, I don’t think that I-”

“You’re not gay?” Gwaine stated plainly, his eyebrow still raised.

Merlin nodded quickly.

“Well,” Gwaine said with a shrug. “That doesn’t mean a thing. I’m not gay either.”

“Er … no?” for some reason Merlin felt almost disappointed at this.

“Nah,” Gwaine then threw Merlin a wicked grin. “I swing both ways – I’m bi.”

Merlin couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“My point is, Merlin,” Gwaine continued, looking a bit more serious. “That I didn’t even know that I was until I tried it.”

“Tried it?” Merlin repeated nervously.

“Have you ever kissed a man?” Gwaine asked bluntly.

Merlin felt the heat rise in his neck and for some reason his mind flicked over to Arthur offering to kiss him earlier.

“No,” he said, swallowing. “No, I haven’t.”

“Would you like to?”

Merlin’s mouth felt dry. Gwaine’s words were flirtatious but there was also a seriousness to his question, and his eyes were keen and intense.

Merlin swallowed.

“I – I don’t know,” he said nervously, eyes darting everywhere but at the man in front of him. They stopped when Gwaine’s palm came to rest on Merlin’s hand – a nice, warm, solid weight – and Merlin looked up into Gwaine’s eyes.

“Well think about it, yeah?” he said kindly, his eyes soft and understanding. “Only it’s almost midnight and I don’t have anyone to kiss and I was rather hoping that you’d help me out with that.”

Merlin flushed once more (and honestly, the only person who ever made him blush so often in so short a time was bloody _Arthur_ so what was going on here?) but he couldn’t help but return Gwaine’s smile.

“Okay,” he said. “I will think about it.” And he actually genuinely meant it.

Gwaine’s eyes glowed.

“There,” he said almost gruffly. “That’s all I wanted.”

They both smiled at that, and Merlin felt a pleasant tingle in his toes.

“So,” Merlin said after the mutual smiles were becoming a bit weird. “How is it that _you_ don’t have a date tonight? I mean, what with all … that,” he added lamely, gesturing limply at Gwaine’s whole body.

Gwaine let out a laugh and it was a very happy and merry sound.

“You don’t half know how to flatter a bloke,” he said, sounding pleased as well as amused. “And I sincerely thank you for the compliment. I confess, I _did_ in fact have a date tonight – at least, I did at the start of the night. But then she got tired of me ignoring her or something like that and decided that she had better places to be. So she stormed out and left me here.”

“Oh,” Merlin said. “I’m sorry. But you really shouldn’t have ignored her, you know. Nobody likes to be ignored when on a date.”

Gwaine waved him off.

“Nah it was only a casual thing,” he said carelessly. “Besides,” he added. “There was something more interesting to focus on.”

For some reason, Merlin blushed.

They continued chatting for the next quarter of an hour, the conversation light and casual, but their eyes both frequently darting over to look at the clock on the wall. Merlin couldn’t say that he was consciously debating whether or not to accept Gwaine’s offer – on the one hand, Gwaine was a _guy_ and it … well. However on the other, Merlin didn’t have anyone else to kiss at midnight and … and … well, there was always the _slimmest_ chance that …

Eventually there was no more time to ponder the matter.

“Everybody be quiet!” someone yelled as they all turned to face the screen where they would be watching the countdown to midnight.

“TEN!” everyone shouted.

“You made your mind up yet?” Gwaine murmured.

“NINE!”

Merlin shrugged helplessly, genuinely at a loss at what to do.

“EIGHT!”

“Well,” Gwaine gave Merlin a gentle nudge even as everyone else called out “SEVEN!” in the countdown. “You’d better make up your – SIX! – mind quickly because – FIVE! – we’re running out of – FOUR! – time here …”

“Oh,” Merlin said agitatedly. “But I – THREE! – I don’t even know if I – TWO! – even want to-”

“ONE!”

Gwaine shook his head and quirked a smile at Merlin.

“Come here, you,” he murmured.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

And with that Gwaine grasped Merlin’s head gently between his two hands and leaning forward, kissed him. Merlin’s hands instinctively rose up but as the kiss continued, they slowly lowered down, eventually coming to rest gingerly on Gwaine’s arms. The kiss continued even as the cheering erupted and someone began to play _Auld Lang Syne_. Merlin’s hands slowly made their way up to rest lightly around Gwaine’s neck, as he silently revelled in finally able to run his hands through that glorious hair. They ignored the sounds of laughter and celebration all around them, each simply intent on the feel of their mouth gently caressing that of the other.

As the sounds of happiness washed over him, Merlin felt himself relax and soon he was smiling into the kiss. Emotions were stirring within him, and not the ones that he had expected to feel. No, this – kissing Gwaine – felt _right_. It felt … _natural_. It felt like he had finally come to understand some vital portion of himself that had been hidden from his sight all this time before. It made him feel … _happy_. And so with a pleased sigh, he resumed his thorough exploration of Gwaine’s mouth, his face shining with peace and contentedness and joy.

A few paces behind them, a figure stood frozen, watching the two of them gently kiss each other. Wide blue eyes stared unblinkingly at the space where the two mouths were joined together. His own had remained untouched – he had saved this midnight kiss for someone else. Only, it seemed, he had done so unnecessarily. He stood there watching as their lips first touched and he stood there still as their lips finally parted. And though it hurt to see Merlin kiss someone else, and though it hurt even more to see that it was a _man_ that he had kissed, nothing – _nothing_ – compared to the feeling evoked by the sight of Merlin’s happily blushing face in the wake of the kiss. Rooted to the spot, he watched as Merlin’s eyes never left those of the other man, how his body swayed ever nearer to him, how his face shone with shy hope …

And then the view was gone as someone moved in front of him, going to wish the two a happy new year.

Merlin, having felt eyes boring into his back, gave a quick glance around the room. However, he could not see a single familiar face, nor could he see anyone looking at him. Believing that he had imagined the feeling, he turned to face Gwaine once more.

In the corner of his eye he might have seen a flash of blond hair heading toward the exit but before he could process this, Gwaine had turned his eyes back to him and all coherent thought was lost once more.

 

*

Things did not immediately come together after that. This was, after all, not a romantic comedy. Merlin and Gwaine did not immediately become boyfriend-and-boyfriend – though, it must be said, this was more due to Merlin’s reticence than Gwaine’s. They danced around each other – slightly awkwardly at first and then not awkwardly at all as they found that they actually worked very well together. Gwaine was funny, sweet and charming, and looked like a bona fide catwalk model. Merlin even sometimes found himself feeling strangely shy of Gwaine. He wasn’t sure why – he had (sort of) pulled Morgana, for God’s sake and _she_ was the most stunning woman that he had ever seen. Yet with Gwaine it was as if he wasn’t at all sure why Gwaine was with him. It wasn’t a feeling that he had ever really encountered before and it threw him slightly.

However this feeling disappeared completely whenever Gwaine was actually with him. The man was so genuinely friendly and affectionate that any doubts that Merlin might have been feeling simply fled out of the window whenever he was around. Gwaine was surprisingly thoughtful and he never pushed Merlin, allowing him to take their odd friendship-relationship at his own pace. Slowly, Merlin’s timidity began to leave him and he grew more and more comfortable being with Gwaine – at the end of the day, the man made him happy and that was really all that mattered. And besides, the man was an absolutely _fantastic_ kisser.

It didn’t take long for Merlin to introduce Gwaine to his friends. He had mentioned to them in passing that he would be introducing someone to them at the pub that night and they had all been very interested in the prospect. Well – everyone besides Arthur, who seemed to be strangely upset and tight-lipped. He had merely glared at Merlin when he had asked if anything were wrong and had roughly barked out that he had a headache. However, headache or not, it did not prevent him from being at the pub that night.

Merlin and Gwaine walked in a little after the others had already arrived. He glanced nervously at Gwaine, who gave him an encouraging smile, and then they both walked towards the booth that his friends occupied, their arms not quite touching.

Morgana was the first to look up, a puzzled expression crossing her face before her eyes widened. She elbowed Leon, who looked up and gaped, causing the others to all look up curiously. Well – all, that is, except for Arthur who stared mulishly into his drink.

“ _Gwaine_?” Leon exclaimed before Merlin could even open his mouth.

Gwaine grinned wide and bright.

“Hello Leon,” he said pleasantly. “Fancy seeing you here!” He turned to Morgana. “Morgana,” he acknowledged, nodding at her.

Now it was Merlin’s turn to gape.

“Wait – you _know_ these two?” he demanded, whirling on Gwaine.

Gwaine gave a pleasant shrug and smiled.

“I should think so,” he said with a grin. “Leon here has been my best mate for years now, and he introduced me to Morgana some time ago.”

Merlin stared at him.

“Why didn’t you _say_?”

Gwaine shrugged, looking slightly put out at Merlin’s expression.

“Well I wasn’t to know that they were _your_ friends as well now, did I?” He paused. “Though that does explain a lot of things, come to think about it.”

“Yes, I’m sorry Merlin,” Leon said, shaking his head. “I had no idea that it was you that …” he suddenly trailed off even as Morgana’s eyes widened even further than they had before.

“Oh! Does this mean- do you mean that-” She glanced between Leon and Gwaine. “That Merlin is _him_?”

Leon glanced at Gwaine, who seemed to look slightly flustered for the first time. Lance and Gwen looked thoroughly bemused, and Arthur’s expression was growing darker by the minute.

“‘Him’?” Merlin demanded. “Who’s ‘him’?”

“You are,” Morgana said, a smile now spreading on her face. “I can’t believe it – it was you all along!”

“ _What_ was?” Merlin asked, frustrated.

“I don’t know about you,” Gwen said to Lance. “But I haven’t the slightest clue what the bloody hell is going on.”

Lance gave a loose shrug.

“I’m still wondering who _that_ guy is,” he said, jerking his head at Gwaine.

Merlin suddenly remembered himself.

“Oh – I’m so sorry you guys. This is Gwaine. Gwaine, this is Lance and his wife Gwen – my two best mates since forever. Morgana and Leon you already know, and that person sulking in the corner there is Arthur.”

“Hi there,” Gwaine said, smiling his stunningly charming smile.

“Ooh!” Gwen said, slightly breathlessly, and even Lance looked slightly impressed by the sheer charm generated by Gwaine’s smile. Only Arthur seemed to be unaffected by it.

“And you know Gwaine because …” Morgana prodded, looking curiously between the two.

Merlin flushed bright red.

“Oh, Gwaine’s … he’s my … um,” he glanced at Gwaine who gave him an affectionate smile.

“We’re good friends,” he said without hesitation. Arthur gave a snort at that, but it was ignored.

“We met on New Year’s Eve,” Merlin explained. “Well – met properly, that is. Turns out we’ve been running into each other for ages before that.”

“I’ll bet,” Morgana murmured, but she was smiling.

Merlin and Gwaine then began to explain their previous acquaintanceship a bit further and as the evening progressed, it soon became clear to almost everyone that Merlin and Gwaine were a bit more than ‘good friends’. Lance had to be elbowed by Gwen and then have the suggestion whispered in his ear, but after a few blank looks and then a second of suddenly-widened eyes, his scrutinising gaze soon turned into one of benevolence. Merlin’s eyes were too bright and his looks were too shy to be construed as anything else, and Gwaine’s expression was too doting and affectionate to be simply that of a new-found friend. Merlin’s friends couldn’t say that they weren’t surprised, but they were pleased for Merlin all the same.

Everyone, that is, except for Arthur. He spent the entire evening glaring evilly at his drink, alternating scowls with grimaces. His eyes always narrowed when he deigned to glance up at Gwaine, and his nostrils flared whenever he took in the sight of him and Merlin sitting next to each other. It was clear that he really didn’t like this new arrival to the group.

It didn’t take long for Gwaine to pick up on this.

“You all right there, princess?” he asked, nodding at Arthur. Arthur scowled as he was forced to look up. “Only you look like you’ve got a bit of a headache, there.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. “Though I won’t object to _you_ quietening down a bit.” He ignored Merlin’s glare in his direction before adding almost as an afterthought. “Oh, and don’t call me ‘princess’.”

Gwaine gave a slow shrug, unbothered.

“I don’t mean to be a bother,” he said lightly. “But you really should go home if you’re not up to the company. _Princess_.”

Merlin bit back a groan as Arthur’s back stiffened and he sat up.

“The name is _Arthur_ ,” he gritted out. “Which, by the way, is an actual _name_ , unlike ‘Gwaine’!”

Gwaine wasn’t fazed.

“Well what can I say?” He winked at Merlin. “Some of us just like to be original.”

The wink seemed to have turned Merlin into a swooning maiden, if his expression was anything to go by.

“Who are you anyway?” Arthur all but snarled. “You with your – your _swishy hair_ and _charming smiles_! What are you doing here?”

“I’m between jobs at the moment,” Gwaine said frankly, almost carelessly. “But I’ve been all sorts of things in my time … an actor in shampoo _and_ toothpaste adverts as well, incidentally.

“Aha! I _knew_ it!” Merlin crowed, even as Arthur scowled.

“Fine, but what do you want with _Merlin_?” he barked, his eyes fierce.

“Arthur!” Merlin snapped, but Gwaine waved him off, his eyes fixed on Arthur’s angry face.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “I think you already know _that_.” A tinge of amusement (and was that – pity?) was apparent in his tone.

Arthur flushed but it was unclear whether it was out of embarrassment or anger.

“You know what?” he said, standing up suddenly. “I actually _do_ have a headache. I think I will be going home now.” He waved off the protests of his friends and pushed his way out of the booth, causing Gwen and Lance to stand up to get out of his way. Merlin watched Arthur do so with a pinched expression on his face, his eyes narrowed as he watched Arthur go.

“Excuse me a moment,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “I’ve got a bone to pick with someone.”

And with that he got up and followed Arthur out of the pub.

He walked around the building and found Arthur scowling down at his feet at the back entrance. Arthur’s head snapped up when he noticed him there.

“What are you doing here?” he growled.

“I came to find you,” Merlin said shortly. He paused, before adding in a softer tone, “You always come out here when you are upset.”

Arthur grimaced.

“Well you found me,” he said, ignoring Merlin’s last words. “Now you can go away. Go back to _Gwaine_.”

Merlin was getting annoyed.

“What exactly is your problem with Gwaine?” he snapped. “He’s a good guy and he’s _nice_ and he’s my friend!”

Arthur snorted.

“Your _friend_ , huh?” he asked sarcastically.

Merlin’s ears went red.

“Yes, my friend,” he repeated, looking a bit pink.

“Oh?” Arthur stepped closer, his mouth twisted. “Do you kiss _all_ your friends that way, Merlin?”

Merlin’s jaw dropped open.

“Wh-What?” he stammered.

“You heard me,” Arthur said bitterly. “I asked you if you kissed _all_ your friends that way. ‘Cause if so, then from what I saw at New Year’s, it appears that I’ve been missing out quite a bit!”

He took another step closer, coming to stand right in front of Merlin, right up in his face. Confused and ever so slightly anxious, Merlin angrily shoved Arthur back.

“You’re drunk,” he said disgustedly. “And you’re being a total _wanker_.”

Arthur gave a snort at that but said nothing. He just stared at Merlin with a strange expression on his face.

Merlin’s anger was suddenly overtaken by a wave of sadness. He closed his eyes for a moment, shivering in the cold winter air.

“You know, I – I don’t understand!” he finally burst out, running his hands perplexedly through his hair. “I thought – I would have thought that out of everyone, _you_ would be the one that would understand! That _you_ would know what this is like for me! I thought-” his voice became small. “I thought you would be _happy_ for me.”

Arthur turned to stare at Merlin, incredulous.

“Happy?” he snarled. “ _Happy_? You thought that I would be _happy_? You fucking idiot – _why_ would I be _happy_? What on earth gave you the idea that I would be happy at – at _this_?” He gestured wildly at Merlin’s entire body.

Merlin stared at Arthur, shocked and hurt. For a moment he couldn’t even speak. He just stared at Arthur, trembling in the cold air. Then his anger overtook him and his eyes narrowed.

“You’re right!” he snapped. “I _am_ a fucking idiot! Why else would I have thought that? Why else would I have even fucking _cared_ about what you thought! You know what – forget it, Arthur. Just – don’t even bother. Go home and sleep off your headache.” He paused and his hurt and anger almost choked him. “You know, on second thoughts – _don’t_! Stay out here and fucking die of pneumonia! ‘Cause _I don’t bloody care_!”

And with that he spun around and stormed off, almost shaking with anger and hurt and fury. He had to pause before he went in; he had to try and compose himself. It wouldn’t do to go in looking like a big emotional girl in front of the others. Not just now. Not because of fucking _Arthur_. Taking a few long deep breaths, Merlin slowed his heart rate down and tried to clear his head of the past few minutes. Pasting on a smile, he walked through the door of The Great Dragon.

At the back entrance of the pub, Arthur was standing still, his mind refusing to stop replaying the last few moments of his fight with Merlin. His mind was still clogged with alcohol and anger but soon it began to clear, leaving him hollow and cold inside. He stood there, wondering just how much of an idiot he was.

He was still there when the night sky became cast over, and as the first flakes of snow began to fall from the sky.

*

Of course, after that things were strained amongst the group. Merlin did not soon forget what Arthur had said to him, and he now treated Arthur with pointed indifference, if indeed he acknowledged him at all. Arthur too, did not emerge from his thunderous gloom, and Merlin’s pointed avoidance only made his mood blacker.

It was a terribly uncomfortable time for the others. None of them knew which way to lean, though there was a general private consensus that Merlin was the innocent party of the two. It was hard mediating between them and it was practically impossible to do so to either party’s full satisfaction. They wouldn’t stop talking to Arthur, because Arthur was their friend, just as they wouldn’t stop talking to Merlin. And they wouldn’t stop talking to Gwaine, because – well, to put it simply, Gwaine was _awesome_.

He was handsome and _funny_ and exciting – and more than that, he genuinely did care about Merlin and this was clearly apparent to all. The story of how he had pined after Merlin from afar slowly came out, and it was clear from her adoring looks that if Gwen hadn’t loved him before this, she clearly did now. It was soon quite obvious that Merlin and Gwaine were a couple – indeed, Merlin’s fight with Arthur had spurred his courage on and, though he was still timid about it, he was now quite happy to kiss Gwaine in public, something that seemed to make Gwen’s mind dissolve into a puddle of useless gloop each time they did.

Gwaine, strangely, did not seem to mind Arthur’s prickly attitude towards him. In fact, he was downright pleasant about it, something that only served to endear him even more to the others. He was very solicitous of Arthur’s feelings, and though he did not shy away from any demonstrations of affection from or towards Merlin, he did not purposely set out to do anything that could overly hurt or annoy Arthur, if only for Merlin’s sake. However, this still did not stop him from calling Arthur ‘princess’.

There were often days when Merlin wondered what was happening to their little group. For one, they were not so little any more. What had been a group of five had now grown to become a group of seven as now both Leon and Gwaine joined them when they went out. Whilst happy at having the two new arrivals, Merlin could not help but feel slightly nostalgic about the days that it had been just the five of them. Whilst he and Morgana had both dated other people before this, neither of them had ever thought to integrate their dates with the rest of their friends. However, Gwaine and Leon seemed to fit so seamlessly into their lives that it seemed perfectly natural to have them along for drinks at the end of the night with the rest of their friends. Sometimes, Merlin and Morgana would catch each other’s eyes and they’d each see the truth of the matter there – they were both growing up and things were getting serious.

Another rather big change in the group’s dynamic centred on Arthur. For a long time after Gwaine’s arrival, Arthur had seemed to be on something of a slump. He had stayed with the group, but he just sat there in the corner, scowling and drinking. He cast dark looks around the table, glared angrily at Gwaine and ignored Merlin completely. The others soon got tired of trying to coax Arthur out of his sullenness and usually ended up ignoring him or throwing their hands up at him in frustration.

And then Arthur changed tactics.

Arthur was not a man to sulk long – he was a man of action, a man of deeds. He eventually figured out that sulking wasn’t the best idea in this case (and that it certainly wouldn’t endear him to Morgana in the least) so he put a stop to that. Instead, he seemed to go in the complete opposite direction. Back, and cranked up a further fifty percent, was the careless charm and need to be the centre of attention. He talked the loudest, told the most jokes and even picked up the tabs at the end of the night. That, perhaps, was the only thing that kept Merlin from digging his nails into his forehead in frustration. He _knew_ this Arthur. This Arthur was the one that he had first encountered – the brash, arrogant one that was at once annoying and overwhelming. The more subtle, _real_ Arthur of their actual friendship was boarded up inside this irritating, pompous chatterbox, and seeing Arthur this way annoyed Merlin to no end.

That was not the only change that Arthur made. Where lately he had been much more lax about his hook-ups, he now chased after potential conquests with renewed energy. Every single night he would show up at their booth with a new man or woman on his arm. At first the others had just rolled their eyes and Gwaine had even laughed and made a few quips about _his_ days as a free and single man when he apparently was able to pull by the dozen. However as the days went by, the amusement lessened and the smiles became more fixed as everyone began to quickly tire of Arthur’s parade of one-night-stands.

Merlin wouldn’t have minded half so much if Arthur had just gone and shagged them, but for some reason Arthur seemed to think it was a good idea to bring them over to the table each night and then stay there, sometimes for hours at a time, just talking and slobbering over his latest conquest. What irritated Merlin the most wasn’t just the fact that the introductions were completely _pointless_ (what with the fact that they never saw these people again after that one night) but also the fact that he was pretty sure that the reason that Arthur was doing all this was because of _him_ and that there was a point was being made here, only Merlin couldn’t seem to grasp what it was – at least, not consciously.

And then Arthur went and threw them all for a loop once again when one of his one-night-stands ended up … well, _not_ being such a one-night-stand. Merlin hadn’t paid particular attention to this newest conquest the first time round, but even he did a double take as Arthur arrived and sat down with the same man that he had brought over the night before.

He was not the only one to stare at the new arrival.

“Oh,” Gwen was the first to speak. “It’s you … again.”

“Hi,” the not-a-one-night-stand-man replied with a bright smile. “Nice to see you again, Gwen.”

“Oh!” Gwen appeared to be slightly caught off guard by the man knowing her name. “It’s nice to see you too … Martin?”

“Marvin,” the man corrected her, not put out in the least. “Arthur asked me to join him here again. I hope that’s all right?”

Everyone hastily assured _Marvin_ that it was perfectly all right, even though none of them actually meant it. Merlin kept his mouth shut. Marvin was rather skinny, with pale skin and black hair and blue eyes. He rather reminded Merlin of someone. Maybe Merlin’s cousin Niniane. She had the same colouring … though, Merlin thought with a sniff, cousin Niniane was a great deal more sensible and intelligent than the insipid creature in front of him.

Marvin was a buffoon. Merlin hadn’t ever really felt the urge to call anyone a buffoon before, but if ever there was one, then Marvin was it. He _giggled_ and _simpered_ and he clung on Arthur’s every word. He laughed (brayed, rather) at every single stupid thing that Arthur said and was constantly touching him, whether to stroke Arthur’s arm dreamily or to lean in to catch a kiss from his lips.

Merlin _hated_ him.

The rest of his friends, while not feeling the same extreme dislike for Marvin that Merlin did, also seemed to feel exceedingly uncomfortable whenever he was around. Which, unfortunately, turned out to be all the time. Morgana and Leon had privately discussed not showing up for their usual evening drinks, and Gwaine and Merlin were doing the same but unfortunately Gwen caught wind of their plans and had dug her nails into both Merlin and Morgana’s arms, viciously threatening them both with bodily harm if they even thought of taking advantage of her and Lance’s politeness by dumping them with Arthur and Marvin. Cowed, Merlin and Morgana had resigned themselves to further evenings full of complete and utter mindless stupidity.

“He’s worse than _you_ when you were with Morgause back at uni!” Lance hissed at him when Marvin regaled them all with a long list of Arthur’s wonderful attributes. “And that’s saying something!”

Leon had begged off their usual evening drinks, and though she had narrowed her eyes at him, Morgana wasn’t so evil as to force him to endure another night of Marvin’s brainless chatter, so she let him off. Gwaine, however, stayed. Like Merlin, he too seemed to regard Marvin with particular distaste, and Merlin often caught him and Arthur staring at each other challengingly. Gwaine would always wave him off whenever he asked about it, though.

Merlin mentioned it to Morgana when they were grabbing a bite to eat for lunch one day. He was talking about Gwaine’s dislike for Marvin and how he himself couldn’t help but feel that Marvin was _familiar_ when Morgana suddenly seemed to choke on her salad. She coughed and wiped her mouth with a napkin before turning to face Merlin disbelievingly.

“Don’t tell me that you haven’t seen it?” she asked, flabbergasted.

Merlin frowned and cocked his head at her.

“Seen what?” he asked, puzzled.

Morgana stared at him.

“Seriously?” she demanded. “You haven’t – you don’t – you haven’t _seen_ the … you don’t realise _who_ Marvin looks like yet?”

“You think he’s familiar as well?” Merlin asked eagerly.

Morgana gave him a look that seemed to seriously question Merlin’s mental ability.

“Damn right he’s familiar!” she snapped, almost irritated. Then she stopped and bit her lip, glancing down at her feet before looking Merlin in the eye. “Merlin – I don’t know how to tell you this, but – Merlin, he looks like – he resembles … well, he resembles _you_.”

Merlin froze.

Then he let out a laugh.

“Come off it!” he snorted. “I may not be perfect but I _know_ that I’m not as much of an idiot as _Marvin_!”

Morgana’s look was part irritation and part pity.

“Okay, so not personality-wise,” she said, rolling her eyes before continuing in a more gentle tone. “But physically …”

And then Merlin saw it. The black messy hair so much like his own. The pale skin and the lanky limbs. Hell, even the loose t-shirts with faded band logos and slogans on them.

“Oh my god,” Merlin whispered. “Marvin’s …” He couldn’t even bear to say it.

“Yeah,” Morgana winced. “Sorry.”

Merlin’s shock then morphed into anger.

“That _dick_!” he exploded. “That absolute _dick_! That _wanker_!”

“Marvin?”

“No!” Merlin growled. “ _Arthur_!”

“Oh,” Morgana paused and bit her lip before saying hesitantly, “Merlin, I know it’s … uncomfortable, but you can’t blame Arthur for-”

“For what?” Merlin rounded on her angrily. “Being a first class wanker? For being the worst friend in the world? For – instead of supporting me through this – going and _mocking_ me by finding some brainless twink to parade in front of me? Is _that_ what I can’t blame him for?”

Morgana looked shocked.

“What?” she asked, surprised. “No, no – that’s not what I meant at all!”

Merlin snorted.

“Yeah,” he said, a bitter twist to his mouth. He set his fork down on his plate. “You know what? I’m not feeling very hungry right now.”

“Merlin-”

“Not now, Morgana. There’s someone I need to talk to first.”

And with that Merlin got up from his seat, pulled a few notes out of his wallet and threw them down on the table, before stalking out of the bistro. He was fuming, angry and outraged, but above all _hurt_ at Arthur’s actions. He knew that Arthur could be a bit of an idiot but he had never thought him to be truly _malicious_ before. But mocking Merlin like this – mocking his newfound _sexuality_ like that? That was just _cruel_.

Merlin returned to work but was tense and irritable for the rest of the day. He managed to finish up early and on doing so, immediately headed for the pub, where he sat mulling things over with the help of a large glass of beer. He was still furious with Arthur, but doubts were beginning to creep into his mind. What if Arthur actually _hadn’t_ done it on purpose? What if he actually _liked_ Marvin and his physical similarity to Merlin was simply a coincidence? Merlin gritted his teeth and drank some more.

It wasn’t long before Arthur arrived on the scene. Unlike the others who liked to change into more comfortable clothes after work, Arthur came to the pub straight from the office, content to wear his beloved suits as much as possible. He blinked in surprise when he saw that Merlin was already there, and he slowly made his way towards him.

“Merlin,” he said with a cautious nod, preparing to sit down. Merlin’s raised hand stopped him.

“Arthur,” Merlin’s voice was grim. “We need to talk.”

Arthur let out a small groan.

“Can’t it wait? I just finished work and need a drink. And doubtless you want to talk about _feelings_ and things like that.”

“Yes, it has to do with feelings, but _no_ , it can’t wait.” Merlin’s tone was harsh and made Arthur look up. Despite their recent coolness toward each other, neither of them had been overly unfriendly. Merlin, however, did not sound happy.

“Okay …” Arthur said carefully, taking the seat next to Merlin and turning to face him fully. “What is it?”

“Is Marvin supposed to be a substitute for me?” Merlin asked bluntly, his eyes boring into Arthur’s.

Arthur’s mouth fell open and he gaped at Merlin. He clearly hadn’t expected Merlin to be so forthright.

“Wha-? No, I – why would – I can’t … what made you – what?” He tripped over his own words but he could see the realisation in Merlin’s eyes, Arthur’s incoherence confirming his belief.

“I will ask you again,” Merlin said coldly. “Is Marvin supposed to be a substitute for me?”

Arthur opened his mouth to vehemently deny it, but then his eyes fell on the unforgiving lines of Merlin’s face.

“Yes,” he said at last, looking down at his feet. “Yes, he is.”

Merlin nodded once, almost to himself.

“I see,” he said icily. He swallowed, reining in his hurt. “Do – do you even _like_ him?”

Arthur was silent.

“ _Do_ you?” Merlin gritted out.

“No,” Arthur said at last. “No, I don’t. I can barely stand the sight of him.”

Merlin started to shake.

“Oh,” he said. “Well, at least no one can fault your dedication.”

Arthur remained silent. Merlin had his answer. He almost walked away right then. But there was one more thing that he needed to know.

He steeled his jaw and looked Arthur straight in the eye.

“Tell me, Arthur,” he said, trying to stop his voice from wobbling. “Is _that_ what you think of me? Do you really think that little of me?” Merlin’s breath stuttered. “Do you honestly think that I – that I’m like _Marvin_?”

Arthur’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened.

“What?” he gasped. “What – Merlin, no - _no_! How could you even think that? Of _course_ I don’t! You are _nothing_ like Marvin! _Nothing_!”

Merlin shook his head.

“I don’t understand you,” he said. “I just don’t understand why you are _being_ like this!”

Arthur’s face stilled.

“Don’t you?” he asked softly.

Merlin didn’t speak but held still as Arthur scrutinised his face.

“You don’t know,” Arthur said at last, wonderingly. “After all this time – even _now_ – you _still_ don’t know!”

“What?” Merlin demanded. “ _What_ don’t I know?”

Arthur looked down at the table before giving a humourless chuckle.

“Well, there it is,” he said softly, almost to himself. “I guess that’s the answer right there.”

“What are you talking about?” Merlin snapped, suddenly feeling strangely apprehensive. “What’s going on?”

Arthur was watching him with a sad look in his eyes.

“I’d hoped for so long,” he murmured. “I’d hoped that you might catch on – that you might actually realise … but you don’t, do you? You don’t even _know_.” He paused, raising his voice and directing his next words at Merlin. “All this time – you thought that I was mocking you?”

“Yes,” Merlin replied, voice even. “Weren’t you?”

“You thought I would do that? To _you_?” Arthur sounded quite odd. “That I could actually do that – that I actually _disliked_ you?”

“Why else would you act that way?” Merlin said defensively.

“Christ,” Arthur muttered. “You don’t have a clue do you? Not even now that you’re with that dick Gwaine-”

“Hey! Leave Gwaine out of this!” Merlin snapped. “This is between you and me. What is your problem with him, anyway?!”

Arthur let out a harsh laugh.

“What’s my _problem_ with Gwaine?” he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I will _tell you_ what my problem with him is, Merlin. My problem with him is that _it bloody well should have been me_!”

Merlin stared at him.

“What – _what_ should have been you?” he asked, his voice almost too low to hear. “Arthur, _what should have been you_?”

Arthur got up and turned around, agitated. He ran his hands through his hair, a trait that he had unknowingly borrowed from Merlin.

“Everything!” he burst out. “All of it!” He turned around to stare into Merlin’s uncomprehending face. “It’s not fair! It’s. Not. Fucking. Fair.”

“For god’s sake, just _tell_ me!” Merlin demanded. “What _is_ it?!”

“You!” Arthur finally answered, sounding almost distraught. “It’s you. It’s _always_ you! I’ve been waiting here for years, Merlin, _years_. And then _Gwaine_ just saunters in one day and suddenly you’re all over him. _Him_! While all the time I’ve been right here! I’ve been hoping and waiting that maybe one day you would realise it but – but you didn’t. Not for me.”

Merlin sat frozen. He didn’t have a clue what to say. Suddenly everything that had happened – everything that Arthur had said and done – it all seemed to make sense. Merlin felt something in his stomach twist.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No. You don’t – you just don’t. You can’t. I mean – you’re _Arthur_ for goodness sakes! You – you don’t have _feelings_ for people! You just …” He trailed off when he saw the brittle expression on Arthur’s face.

“I just sleep with them?” Arthur finished the sentence for him dully. “Yeah, that’s what I always thought as well. If there was one lesson that I took from my father, then that was it. Turns out that I’m a disappointment to him in _that_ respect as well.”

“Wow. Wow.” Merlin couldn’t seem to process what he was hearing. “But – you never _said_! You never _did_ anything!”

Arthur let out a dry laugh.

“Really Merlin? I _never_ did _anything_? I never showed _any_ interest in you whatsoever? Really?”

Merlin blanched as he remembered all the times that Arthur had flirted with him and pretended to come on to him … only, Merlin now realised, it might not have been as much of a pretence as he had originally supposed.

“Well … how was I supposed to know!” Merlin protested indignantly, choosing to go with anger and defensiveness rather than confusion and the other scary feelings that were churning in his gut. “It’s not my fault that I didn’t realise, what with you sleeping with a different girl or guy every night!”

“The others noticed,” Arthur said quietly. “Morgana certainly did. Gwen too, I’m sure. Hell, Merlin – even _Lance_ knew something was up and _he’s_ not exactly the most perceptive man in the world, is he? But Christ – compared to you, he’s Sigmund fucking Freud!”

Merlin looked away, stung and also slightly ashamed.

“How – how long have you … when did you-?”

Arthur gave a harsh laugh.

“It’s been a while,” he said sardonically. “But it probably became more … _focused_ around the time that you met Freya.”

Merlin stared at him.

“Arthur,” he breathed. “Christ, Arthur that was _years_ ago!”

Arthur was silent, focused on some point just beyond Merlin’s shoulder.

“Years …” Merlin repeated, feeling baffled. “ _Years_ and you never said anything. Not once! I nearly asked Freya to _marry_ me and you still didn’t say anything!”

Arthur gave a helpless shrug.

“You were happy,” he said simply. “And you loved each other. I didn’t want to get in the way of that. Besides, it’s not like I was over the moon about – about figuring out how I felt. Though, let me tell you, the whole ‘unrequited love’ thing seems to work wonders with the girls.”

“I’m glad that there was a high point to it!” Merlin snapped.

Arthur’s face tightened.

“You know what?” he glared. “So am I! You know, you’re being terribly self-righteous about this, Merlin! It’s not like I _wanted_ to feel anything for you! And it’s not like you ever made things easy for me!”

“I – you are _not_ trying to blame this on me!” Merlin gasped, appalled.

Arthur gave him an almost haughty look.

“Who ever said anything about _blame_? Though,” he added. “If there _was_ someone whose fault this is …”

“Oh!” Merlin said, incensed. “It’s a _fault_ to actually care for someone now, is it? It’s a _fault_ to actually _like_ me, now?”

Arthur just gave a huff, which only served to irk Merlin further.

“You’re being completely unreasonable!” he fumed, standing up angrily. “You’re acting like I did you some huge wrong when _none_ of this is my fault at all! What did _I_ ever do?!”

Arthur’s expression of bitterness faded.

“Nothing,” he said softly, almost sadly. “You did nothing. Us being together was so far out of the realm of possibility for you that you did nothing. It would have been kinder if you _had_ noticed and told me to fuck off then and there instead of allowing things to continue as they were and string me along. No, don’t worry, I _know_ – you didn’t have a clue about my feelings. The idea just never occurred to you. And as I said before – that is the true answer to the question that I never got around to asking you.” He looked at Merlin with a wry twist of his lips. “There’s no need to worry,” he reassured him. “I won’t ever be asking you that question now.”

Arthur turned and started to walk away.

“Arthur…” Merlin started but his voice trailed off. He didn’t have a clue what to say.

Arthur turned back and gave him a weak smile.

“Don’t worry about it Merlin,” he said tiredly. “You never did before. Now is hardly the time to start.” He paused. “After all,” he said. “You are with Gwaine and I – I’m done.” He turned and began to walk away. “Goodnight Merlin. I will see you tomorrow. I’m sure you won’t feel quite so bad in the morning.”

And Merlin sat there and watched him walk out of pub, all the while wondering at the strange and unfamiliar ache in his chest.

 

*

Things really changed after that and Merlin wasn’t at all sure that it was for the better. Well – apart from one thing. Merlin had to admit that he wasn’t even the slightest bit sad at seeing the odious Marvin summarily kicked out from the group the day after Merlin and Arthur’s revealing conversation.

Arthur hadn’t wasted any time in dumping him now that the ploy was up, but he’d had the decency to do it in person rather than via text as was his usual practice. He had immediately regretted this small act of courtesy when Marvin had started practically _bawling_ and crying and generally being even more pathetic than was usual. Arthur forced himself to be sympathetic, and removed himself from Marvin’s presence as soon as he was able and immediately headed straight for the pub, being sorely in need of a drink.

Apart from the happy departure of Marvin, things weren’t all that great within the group. They seemed to have fractured slightly. It wasn’t easy for seven people to meet every night and so the days when they all met up became fewer and fewer, until they were mainly meeting on the weekend.

Arthur became more and more distant. He rarely turned up at the pub any more and actually began to work longer and longer hours. The others had been surprised and sad at this at first but had eventually come to accept it. Merlin though … he couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied and unhappy whenever Arthur didn’t show up. Never mind that he also felt awkward whenever Arthur actually _was_ there and that they barely spoke to each other. Arthur’s mere presence was enough to somehow soothe Merlin and stop him from feeling antsy and irritable. He couldn’t help but feel that – without Arthur - the group felt hideously incomplete and lacking in some sort of unidentifiable but intrinsic way.

And yet – there was nothing that Merlin could do.

He wasn’t even sure that he actually _wanted_ to do anything about it, either.

The thing was - Merlin _loved_ Gwaine. He really, honestly did. The man was sweet and funny and _ridiculously_ sexy and he made Merlin happy. Merlin hadn’t been this happy since Freya - only this time he knew that he, Merlin, would actually come first. Gwaine wasn’t going to take it into his head to move to Australia to follow his lifelong dream and, Merlin was actually beginning to realise, that even if such an opportunity _did_ come Gwaine’s way, it was highly likely that Gwaine would unhesitatingly turn it away. This realisation humbled Merlin. He was pretty sure that Gwaine would do anything for him and this only made him love Gwaine all the more. And so it made Merlin feel illogically guilty for missing Arthur so much. He couldn’t help feeling that his love for Gwaine should overshadow all else and Arthur’s absence shouldn’t bother him so much. It was stupid, he knew, but he couldn’t help it.

He was worried that he was losing Arthur.

Gwaine, when he realised, completely understood how Merlin felt. Merlin told Gwaine about Arthur’s (sort of) declaration of love soon after it happened and Gwaine hadn’t been at all surprised by the revelation. It hadn’t stopped him from sympathising with Merlin and he even went so far as to encourage Merlin to make an effort to reconcile with Arthur which more than anything made Merlin realise just how _good_ a man Gwaine was.

He was, in a way, perfect. Sure, he enjoyed drinking a bit too much, and no one could accuse him of being the most responsible of men, but in his own way he was perfect. He was perfect for _Merlin_. The kind of perfect that was, dare he say it, Lance-and-Gwen perfect. Merlin could easily see himself grow old with Gwaine by his side and he _wanted_ that. Badly. He had _always_ wanted that. And now he had it.

The only problem was that a vital ingredient was missing from these fantasies of the future that he had – Arthur. It was as if his imagination was only willing to stretch out so far – being happy and growing old with Gwaine was within the realm of possibility but apparently the idea of having _Arthur_ stick around as his friend for that long stretched too far out. Well, either that or Merlin’s imagination had come to a screeching halt when faced with the task of conjuring up a believable-enough image of Arthur as a horny old geriatric hooked on Viagra or something. Merlin shuddered. No, he _really_ couldn’t imagine Arthur as an old man. He was just too … too _something_.

It had come to the point where Merlin had almost resigned himself to losing Arthur. He didn’t have a clue how to resolve things. What could he say? That he was sorry but he obviously couldn’t return Arthur’s feelings? That he loved Gwaine and that nothing could ever persuade Merlin to give him up? That Arthur was being childish and selfish for ignoring Merlin and that Merlin wanted to _demand_ that he join them more often even if he couldn’t bear to see Merlin and Gwaine together because _Merlin_ asked him to? Merlin snorted. _Now_ who was being selfish? Merlin had no right to ask that of Arthur. He hadn’t before, and he _definitely_ didn’t now that they barely spoke to each other.

So there it was. Either he gave up Gwaine and regained a best friend, or he gave up Arthur and kept a boyfriend – no – he kept a _future_.

There was no contest really.

And so the next time that he and his friends all had drinks together he pointedly did not look longingly towards the pub’s entrance in hopes that the person he was waiting for would appear. Instead, he snuggled down in Gwaine’s arms and brushed a kiss on his jaw.

He had made his choice.

 

*

Merlin looked forward to his weekly pub night with his friends. For someone who was used to seeing the others almost every single day for what seemed to amount to most of his life, waiting till the weekend was something of a hardship. Sure, he met Morgana frequently for lunch, Gwen often cooked them dinner, and Merlin and Lance could never stay apart for very long – at least, not without resorting to forlorn sighs and wistful stares out the window (which luckily both Gwen and Gwaine seemed to find unbearably cute rather than an irritation or threat to their own relationships). However, lunch breaks were hardly long or relaxing enough to enjoy fully, Gwen was getting broody and had suddenly taken to bringing up the topic of babies in every single conversation, and Lance, while not doting over (and encouraging) his wife, had somehow seemed to become suddenly very close to Arthur.

Lance had been a lawyer at P&G for a while now, and it had proved to be extremely beneficial for his and Arthur’s relationship. A good deal of the conversation between Merlin and Lance now consisted of Lance’s relating the tales of his and Arthur’s exploits while at the company, and while Merlin couldn’t help the twisted feeling of jealousy at their having fun without him, he also greatly enjoyed the stories. Besides, Lance’s stories were pretty much the only source of information about Arthur that Merlin received these days. Arthur still turned up at the pub on odd weekends, and he and Merlin still talked, but the conversations were stilted and dry and held almost none of their previous teasing and affection.

Strangely enough, one of things that had hurt the most was when Lance unthinkingly talked about the night he had gone out on the pull with Arthur. Lance delightedly related how Arthur had masterfully (Merlin snorted) managed to pull by pretending that he was a dancer in the Russian ballet … despite not knowing how to dance and not even pretending to put on a Russian accent. Merlin had expected to be amused but he was completely surprised that instead he felt dismayed. Lance’s voice faded out of his mind as he took it in. He had to repeat the thought to himself several times over before he could fully process it.

He was no longer Arthur’s wingman.

Merlin made his excuses soon after and left. There was a bottle of cheap wine at home that had his name on it.

*

 

“Wow.” Gwaine’s eyes followed the trail of an attractive brunette in a short skirt. “Now _she_ looks tasty!”

“Hmm,” Merlin replied noncommittally, his eyes on the other side of the room where Arthur, present for once, was picking up a cute blonde. “I’ve seen better.”

Gwaine frowned and turned to look in the direction Merlin was facing.

“Huh,” he said with slight surprise. “I didn’t know blondes were your type.”

Merlin watched the blonde girl let out a high-pitched little laugh, throwing her hair back and uncovering her very nice chest in the process.

“They’re not,” he said flatly, before turning around and kissing Gwaine hard on the lips.

“Suits me just fine,” Gwaine murmured with a grin, before kissing him back.

Those were the last words that they spoke for a while.

 

*

 

“I worry about you, you know,” Morgana said one day. Her tone was light but her eyes clouded. “I’m not entirely certain why, but I just do.”

Merlin gave her an odd look.

“What’s there to worry about?” he asked. “Everything’s going fine. I’m _happy_.”

“Are you though?” Morgana murmured, her eyes on the pub’s entrance.

Merlin normally would have rolled his eyes but this time he seriously contemplated the question.

“Yes,” he said finally, decisively, remembering how that morning Gwaine had woken him up with sweet kisses and murmurs of tenderness and love. “Yes, I am happy. I – I really am.”

Morgana studied his face for a moment. Then she smiled.

“Yes,” she said, her face slowly lighting up. “I do believe you are.”

Merlin smiled and said nothing.

 

*

 _August 2011_

Merlin and Gwaine had been dating for almost eight months, and Merlin was fantastically happy. He had nearly forgotten how much he enjoyed being in a loving, long-term relationship but being with Gwaine brought back all of the best memories of being with Freya with none of the hurt.

Which was why it was something of a shock when one day, Gwaine dropped a bombshell on him.

“I’ve been offered a job back home in Ireland,” he said, as happy and carefree as normal, but unable to hide the apprehension in his eyes. “It’s – well it’s a pretty damn amazing job. It will allow me to get my da’s company back.”

Merlin just stared. His heart was sinking. His mind flicked back to the day a few months ago, when Gwaine had softly revealed the truth about his father, and about how he worked himself into an early grave by pouring his blood, sweat and tears into his fledgling company only to have it fail and be consumed by a giant fat-cat corporation. Gwaine had grown up mourning a father that he had barely known, and though he had hardly even admitted it to himself, getting his father’s beloved company back was something that Gwaine had secretly set his heart upon.

Merlin remembered how upon Gwaine telling him this he had felt his love for the man increase exponentially – indeed, that night had been the very first time that Merlin had said “I love you” to him. He had, of course, been exceedingly happy and grateful to have Gwaine return the sentiment without any hesitation whatsoever.

And so it was just a bit of a shock to hear Gwaine tell him about this new opportunity in Ireland. _Ireland_ which wasn’t _England_. Which was where Merlin was.

“Oh god!” Merlin couldn’t stop himself from moaning. “This is Freya _all over_ again!”

Gwaine looked startled at that.

“What?” he said, frowning. “No, no! Merlin – no, of course it isn’t! I was just-” He appeared slightly flustered, which was highly unusual for Gwaine. “I was just – oh look, here-”

And to Merlin’s shock, Gwaine pulled something out of his pocket and knelt down on the floor of Merlin’s apartment.

“Merlin,” he said, his eyes fixed determinedly on Merlin’s. “Will you marry me?”

There was silence.

And then –

“ _What_?”

Gwaine grimaced but he remained where he was, waiting.

“Will you marry me?” he asked again, his tone just as calm and firm.

Merlin was shocked and the slightest bit uneasy.

“Gwaine, I don’t know if-”

“You think I’m just doing this because of the job,” Gwaine interrupted. “You think that I’m rushing into this. But I’m not, Merlin. I’m really not. I’ve never met anyone like you – I’ve never _loved_ anyone like you. Christ, Merlin – I would do anything for you, you know that. This is _it_ for me. The only thing I’m doing is getting a head start on taking you off the market before someone else comes along and sweeps you off your feet.”

Merlin looked at him helplessly.

“So this isn’t about Ireland?” he asked, doubt colouring his words heavily.

“No,” Gwaine said quickly and then made a face. “Well. Yeah, it is. But only a little bit. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, Merlin. Ireland just sped things up a bit. But I want you there. I want to take you home and show you the places I grew up in and where I used to play and where I got into my first bar brawl. I want to introduce you to my Great Aunt Deirdre and the landlord who owns the pub up my street. I want _you_ , Merlin. I will _always_ want you.”

Merlin felt something soften in him at that but even he, sentimental as he was, knew that he couldn’t just dive into something like this.

“Gwaine-” he started but Gwaine waved him off.

“I know,” he said gently. “This isn’t something you can make your mind up about on the spot, and I know that you weren’t expecting it. Take your time with it and get back to me when you know – when you are _sure_. I don’t want you to feel like I’ve rushed you into this. I want you to be certain. We love each other, yes, but I know that you love your friends and that you love your life here.” He paused, before adding almost hesitantly, “I also know that you and Freya broke up about almost the exact same thing. But I also want you to remember this: Ireland isn’t Australia and I am not Freya. I wasn’t lying when I said that I would do anything for you.” He fixed Merlin with a steady stare before saying deliberately, “And if it means giving up Ireland, then so be it.”

Merlin couldn’t really find a fitting response so he just kept quiet, his mouth opening and closing randomly as he came close to saying something but stopped at the last minute.

“Don’t worry your pretty head,” Gwaine gave him a half-hearted smirk and, leaning in, pressed a chaste kiss to Merlin’s cheek before heading for the door. “I’ll get out of your way for now. Call me when you know, yeah?”

It was all Merlin could do to nod dumbly at Gwaine’s retreating back, not even fully registering it when Gwaine shut the door behind him.

Fifteen minutes later, the door slammed shut once more as Merlin quickly made his way out, jacket hastily thrown over his arm as he made his way down to the pub.

He needed a drink.

 

*

 

Merlin was on his second beer, deep in contemplation, when he felt a presence at his side.

“Huh,” Merlin looked up in surprise to see an inscrutable-looking Arthur in front of him. “This brings back memories.”

Merlin blinked.

“It does?” he asked blankly.

Arthur slid into the seat opposite him.

“Yeah,” he said casually. “First day we met. You were sitting here in the same spot with a beer and the same expression on your face. Come to think of it, that might actually be the same T-shirt that you wore as well.”

“Sod off,” Merlin said, but he couldn’t help the small smile that lifted at the end of his mouth. He and Arthur hadn’t talked in ages and they hadn’t talked like this in even longer. Merlin couldn’t keep his heart from swelling slightly at, especially as Arthur had been the first to approach him.

“Just telling it like it is,” Arthur sniffed, but he softened the words with a small smile that warmed Merlin. “So,” he said quietly. “What’s wrong?”

Merlin opened his mouth before frowning and closing it. For some reason he didn’t want to tell Arthur about his predicament. He told himself that it was just because he hadn’t processed it himself, but in reality he knew it was because he didn’t want to see the smile leave Arthur’s face and he didn’t want to destroy this tentative overture to friendship that Arthur was casting out.

“Nothing,” he said, biting his lip at Arthur’s disbelieving frown. “Well okay, it’s _not_ nothing but – I would much rather not talk about it now. Is that okay?”

Arthur continued to frown but he nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“Fair enough,” he said at last. “So what are you doing?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow and his mouth curved up in a smile once again.

“Can’t you see?” He gestured at the beer glass in front of him. “I’m getting drunk!”

Arthur studied him for a moment.

“Well,” he said at last. “That seems to be as good an idea as any. One suggestion though, if I may?”

Merlin cocked his head.

“Go right ahead,” he said, gesturing loosely with his arm.

Arthur was staring thoughtfully at the beer glass.

“I generally find,” he said slowly. “That getting drunk is a lot easier when you are drinking shots.”

Merlin’s smile widened.

“Is that a fact?” he asked, faking curiosity.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Arthur smiled back at him, small and secretive and Merlin couldn’t help but beam back, his smile lasting till Arthur returned with the drinks.

Gwaine’s marriage proposal was forgotten even before the first sip touched Merlin’s lips.

 

*

That night went down in Merlin’s memories as being one of the most fun that he had ever had. Of course, he couldn’t completely remember everything that had happened, but he did know that it had been _brilliant_ and that he didn’t regret a single second of it.

Of course, the morning after wasn’t nearly so glossy and shiny in reality. Things like hangovers tended to get in the way of that, and Merlin had a great big splitting one. He blinked his eyes open blearily and after a moment realised that he wasn’t in his bedroom. Another moment, and he realised that he was in _Arthur’s_ bedroom.

A shard of ice ran through his stomach and he quickly glanced down at himself in fear. However, apart from his socks and shoes being gone he was completely clothed. The only soreness he could feel was in his head, and the only stickiness was from the drool on his cheek. Wrinkling his nose slightly, Merlin smacked his lips and looked around.

To his left, just as had happened numerous times before, was glass of water and a packet of painkillers on the bedside table. When he glanced to his right, Merlin saw that Arthur was curled up next to him, though still asleep and lying a respectful distance from him. Merlin studied the picture in front of him and couldn’t help softening. While Merlin was covered with a blanket and had water and painkillers next to him, Arthur seemed to have foregone the same luxuries for himself. Now that Merlin looked, Arthur hadn’t even taken off his own socks or shoes. Merlin sighed fondly even as Arthur’s eyes flickered open.

“Hi,” Arthur murmured, still clearly more asleep than awake.

“Hi,” Merlin replied, feeling a contented hum rise up in the back of his throat.

They lay there in silence for a while, content to just stare at each other.

And then Arthur reached out. It was only a small movement but it made Merlin’s breath hitch in his chest. Slowly, ever so slowly, Arthur brushed his hand lightly against Merlin’s cheek.

“Merlin,” he murmured and then slowly, cautiously, he moved forward.

Merlin’s heart was beating fiercely in his chest and for a moment he couldn’t even breathe. And then Arthur’s face was right in front of him, hopeful and almost scared, and then his eyes were flickering shut and his lips were a scant breath away …

Merlin’s eyes flew open and he jerked back violently, the reality of the situation coming back to him. He stared at Arthur even as Arthur stared back, his eyes wide and filled with hurt and disappointment and something else.

“I can’t,” Merlin said quickly. “I’m with Gwaine.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened and his only response was a jerky nod.

“Even if - I can’t be in casual relationship Arthur,” Merlin said, his voice slightly pained. “I want more than that. I _need_ more than that. And I have it – with Gwaine. I love him and he loves me and … and that’s that. Anything else … well – there really shouldn’t be anything else in the first place, should there?”

Arthur’s face was blank.

Sighing, Merlin wiped his face with his hand tiredly.

“I should go,” he said, getting up from the bed. He first swallowed the painkillers before quickly pulling on his socks and shoes. He then turned to face Arthur, who hadn’t moved from his position on the bed though his eyes never left Merlin.

“Goodbye then,” Merlin said softly. “I – Thank you for last night. I don’t think I’ve that much fun in a long time now.”

All he received in return was another of those jerky nods.

Merlin sighed and turned to head for the door. However, just before he reached it, Arthur spoke.

“I could give you what you want, you know,” he said, his eyes clear and serious. “I know you probably don’t believe me, but I could. I _would_. For you I would do anything. I’d _want_ to do anything.”

Merlin stilled.

“Arthur,” He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. “Arthur, you can’t just-”

“I love you,” Arthur suddenly said. His eyes were intense and burning, and Merlin had never seen him like this before, not even when Arthur had told him about his father. “It probably won’t mean much to you, but I needed to say it. I love you.”

Merlin felt something within him die even as another part of him glowed at the words.

“You’re wrong,” he whispered at last. He faced Arthur, his eyes tired and sad. “It means a lot to me.”

And then he was out of the room and gone from Arthur’s apartment before Arthur could fool himself into having the tiniest bit of hope.

 

*

Merlin didn’t return home after that. Even more surprisingly, he didn’t go to the pub, either. He didn’t call Lance and Gwen, nor did he attempt to get hold of Morgana. Instead, he went to the park and sat there, deep in thought, watching the people pass him by.

He did not know how long he sat there for. All he knew was that by the time he stirred from his reverie, the sky was dark and the park was mostly empty. Giving himself a small shake, he got up from the park bench and started to walk off, his feet sure of the path he was taking.

He walked and walked and walked until he finally found himself in front of the door. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the doorbell.

Seconds later, Gwaine opened the door, and he smiled in surprise at seeing Merlin there.

“Merlin!” he exclaimed, a pleasant furrow in his brow. “What are you doing here?”

Merlin looked up at him and gave him a small, brief smile.

“I’ve come to answer your question,” was all he said.

Gwaine stared at him for a moment before nodding and moving out of the way. Merlin immediately walked inside and then the door was shut firmly behind them.

 

 

 **Merlin stopped there, leaning back on the sofa and contemplating what he had just said. Around him, his friends shifted restlessly.**

 **“Well?” Gilli finally demanded. “What happened next?”**

 **There was a low chuckle from Merlin’s side, and then Gwaine sidled up, and perching on edge of the sofa, threw an arm around Merlin and placed a sweet kiss on his cheek.**

 **“I’m sure you are _all_ perfectly familiar with what exactly happened next!” he said with a warm chuckle, squeezing Merlin and smiling.**

 **“Unlike some people!” came a voice and suddenly Arthur was there, elbowing Gwaine out of the way and taking the seat next to Merlin. “Keep your dirty mitts off of _my_ fiancé, Gwaine!”**

 **“Yeah,” Elena agreed, throwing a pout in Gwaine’s direction. “I’m not a jealous person or anything but you could give a girl a complex by hitting on your ex-boyfriend while your girlfriend is still in the room!”**

 **Gwaine grinned but he immediately jogged over to Elena and wrapped his arms around her tenderly, beaming at the soft smile that she gave him.**

 **Arthur, on the other hand, was busy pressing kisses into Merlin’s neck.**

 **“Oh please!” Morgana rolled her eyes. “Get a room!”**

 **“What about the rest of the story!” another of their friends protested from their seat on the floor.**

 **“T-the st-o-OH-ry?” Merlin stammered out, his brain slowly turning to mush under Arthur’s skilful ministrations.**

 **“You can’t end it there!”**

 **Merlin sighed in a long-suffering manner.**

 **“Oh fine then,” he said grumpily, trying (not very hard) to remove himself from Arthur’s embrace. “It’ll have to be the quick version. So, basically, what happened was…”**

 

Merlin’s time in the park had been quite a revelation – at least, it had been to him. He loved Gwaine, yes. This he knew for a fact. He enjoyed his company and his smiles and the way that Gwaine made him laugh. He enjoyed having sex with him as well, though Merlin hadn’t summoned up the courage to have the whole full-on experience just yet. Gwaine was _fun_ , and Merlin was _happy_ and wasn’t that what mattered? Sure, sometimes Merlin felt … odd, as if … as if he were missing something. As if … he shook his head. The closest he could come to explaining the feeling was by comparing it to doing a mathematical problem where you’d followed each of the steps correctly but had somehow arrived at a solution which contained a decimal point when it really ought to have been a whole number.

He sighed. He really didn’t understand it. Gwaine was _perfect_. He was everything that Merlin had ever thought he had wanted. He _had_ to be. Why else would Merlin have fallen for him, when he had never so much as looked at another man in a romantic light before?

… But that was a lie wasn’t it?

Merlin felt his stomach drop out from under him as the revelation hit him like a lightning bolt. Gwaine was _not_ the first man that he had ever fancied. He wasn’t even the first man that he had cared for as more than a friend. With a pounding heart, Merlin ran through some of his interactions with Arthur.

 

 _The first time Merlin had met him. Arthur’s hair was flopping over his crinkled eyes and the right side of his mouth was quirked up in a smile. For a moment he almost did look like a suave and dashing Bogart-esque character about to sweep someone –_ Merlin _\- off their feet. Arthur waited till Merlin relaxed before lifting the glass up in the air. “Here’s looking at you kid,” he said with an almost-fond smile, before lifting the glass up to his mouth and draining it._

 _And Merlin, his stomach twisting strangely, blushed._

 _  
_

_…_

 _  
_

_Merlin was laughing at something that Lance had said when he felt eyes boring into the back of his neck. He’d glanced around, his brow creased, only to see Arthur staring at him with a strange expression on his face. When he saw Merlin looking, he acknowledged the stare with a slow nod, but his gaze hadn’t faltered._

 _Merlin had turned back to Lance, his ears red and his lungs strangely free from breath._

 _Lance soon left his side to go join someone who would appreciate his stories better._

 _  
_

_…_

 _  
_

_It was the day of Lance and Gwen’s wedding and Merlin was very nervous, hoping that he was doing a good enough job as Best Man and frequently checking his pockets to confirm that he hadn’t (yet) lost the ring. So caught up in his own thoughts was he that he jumped when he heard a voice behind him._

 _“Penny for your thoughts?”_

 _Merlin whirled around to see Arthur behind him, an expectant look on his face. Merlin blinked, taking in the sight of Arthur dressed in what was obviously a very expensive suit, but a very tasteful and flattering one nonetheless._

 _“Oh. Hello,” Merlin said, still a little fuzzy. “You look – you look good.”_

 _“Oh,” Arthur looked slightly caught off guard at that and he looked down at his shoes. “Thanks. So – so do you.” He shook himself, and then his eyes fell on Merlin’s bow-tie and his nose wrinkled slightly. “Oh, come here,” he said with a sigh, and before Merlin knew it, Arthur was pressed close to him, his arms around his neck, fussing and tugging at the rather haphazard knot that Merlin had tied. Merlin felt his heart speed up and he swayed slightly, but that was probably because he was nervous about the wedding. Obviously_.

 _Arthur glanced up briefly from where he was deftly tying Merlin’s bow tie._

 _“You’ll be fine,” he murmured, his voice low but his eyes focussed. “You’ve got the ring in your left side jacket pocket and you have your best man’s speech all written out for tonight. Lance is raring to go and you’ve done your duty in getting him here to the church. You have nothing to worry about.”_

 _And Merlin looked at Arthur, who radiated nothing but confidence and approval, and he believed him. It was another minute before he realised that the both of them were staring at each other, and that Arthur had finished tying the knot some time ago. A flush rose up in his face as he realised that they were still standing toe to toe, almost breathing the same air._

 _Arthur must have noticed the widening of Merlin’s eyes as he gave a small cough and, smoothing Merlin’s tie once more, stepped back._

 _“There we go,” he said, taking in his work. “Perfect.” He bit his lip as if embarrassed by what he’d said. “Now,” he said gruffly. “Get out of here and go to Lance and repeat the same things to him that I just said to you. Well – that sort of thing anyway. I knew I should have been the one chosen to be the best man!”_

 _Merlin had smiled at that and had moved to the door._

 _“Thanks,” he had said as he left the room, his eyes and Arthur’s never leaving each other until the door closed, shutting them both out._

 _  
_

_…_

 _  
_

_Merlin watched Marvin give an irritating high-pitched laugh and then proceed to slobber all over Arthur’s mouth._

 _Dear_ god _but he_ hated _Marvin._

He’s not even a good kisser, _Merlin thought with disgust, his lip curled as he watched Marvin shove his face at Arthur’s._ If it were me, I would make it a lot slower for one, and then I’d-

 _And then Gwaine came back with the drinks and Merlin promptly suppressed all further thoughts regarding anyone else but him._

 _…_

 _  
_

_Merlin watched as Arthur walked away, having just confessed his love for him._

 _He stood there for a while._

 _And then a while longer._

 _And then he went back inside the pub and proceeded to get completely trashed._

 _  
_

_…_

 _  
_

_Merlin’s eyes blinked open and he winced as a bolt of pain stabbed through his head. He groaned and squirmed about, a grimace of pain marring his features which was quickly overtaken by fear as he realised that he had passed out in_ Arthur’s _bedroom. However, all the pain and the fear quickly drained away when he turned over and caught sight of Arthur’s face._

 _Merlin couldn’t help but feel breathless for a moment. Arthur was just lying there, head tousled and mouth slack but Merlin had never seen anything so beautiful._

This, _he thought to himself._ This is how I want to wake up every morning. Just like this.

 _And then Arthur’s eyes flickered open and the easy smile he gave him made Merlin’s heart swell._

 _And as they lay back and just watched each other in a comfortable silence, Merlin realised with a pang that he couldn’t remember having ever feeling this content._

 

 

After that, it was relatively easy to come to a decision. It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out that Merlin had feelings for Arthur, and that he’d had these feelings for a _long_ time. Even more important was the fact that these feelings had _never stopped_ – not when Merlin had met Gwaine and not even when Merlin had developed strong feelings for him.

It was rather galling to realise that he had been so blind. Merlin knew that the others sometimes fondly shook their heads at him for being oblivious, but he had always thought that they had grossly exaggerated things. Now, however … how could he have not realised that he – that he – _cared_ for Arthur in such a way? And so _strongly_? And what did that make of his relationship with Gwaine?

Merlin closed his eyes and shook his head. The thing was, he already knew. He knew who he would want to have comfort him when he was upset. He knew who he wanted to laugh with and share secret smiles with. He knew whose face it was that he imagined when he thought about growing old with Gwen, Lance and Morgana, even though he hadn’t thought it significant of anything more than friendship before this. And – and –

And he knew who it was that he would rather be standing at the altar with, and the answer to all of those questions was not the name of the man who was currently offering him all of these exact same things and more.

Sighing, Merlin got up from the park bench.

He had some explaining to do.

 

*

 

“… And – I know I’m probably the world’s biggest idiot and that I will probably regret this sooner or later, but – but I have to _try_ , Gwaine. I have to _know_. I can’t let myself wonder about what _could_ have been.”

Gwaine was watching him silently, not giving anything away.

“I’m sorry!” Merlin threw his hands up in the air, not sure what more he could say after having spent a good quarter of an hour grovelling. “I truly, honestly am. I just – I never saw this coming.”

Gwaine let out a sudden laugh. Merlin stared at him and to his astonishment, Gwaine actually looked somewhat _amused_.

“Really?” Gwaine was smirking now, apparently even his hurt taking a backseat to the amusement. “You didn’t? Because _I_ did.”

Merlin gaped.

“You _did_?” he stammered out.

Gwaine nodded, and now his smirk was fading and he just looked sad and tired.

“Yeah,” he said softly, before clearing his voice to get rid of the unexpected hoarseness. “I guess I’ve always known, you know, somewhere deep down. I’ve always seen it. Even before we met – the way you were when Arthur was around … it’s different. You – light up, almost. You come alive. You’re _happy_.”

Merlin didn’t know what to say to that.

“I’m happy with you too,” he said in a small voice, miserable.

Gwaine’s face softened.

“Not like you are when you’re with him,” he said gently, placing a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “It’s different when you are with him.”

Merlin’s eyes dropped down to the floor and he turned his cheek into the touch, suddenly feeling unaccountably devastated on Gwaine’s behalf. Gwaine shouldn’t be taking it so well. He should be yelling at Merlin, should hate him. He shouldn’t be so understanding and so – so _Gwaine_.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice, still not able to meet Gwaine’s eyes.

He heard Gwaine let out a slow puff of breath, and he knew that if he were to look up, he would see the pain in Gwaine’s eyes.

He didn’t look up.

“At least you are telling me now,” Gwaine said at last, rubbing at his face and giving Merlin a tired smile. “That’s something. I can’t _stand_ those stupid rom-coms where the idiots always wait till the day of the wedding to reveal that they’re in love with someone else. It’s _such_ a cliché!”

Merlin couldn’t help but smile at that, glad that Gwaine was at least able to make jokes even now. Then he went back over the words that Gwaine had just spoken and his breath caught in his chest.

“In love …” he repeated, his heart suddenly thundering in his chest. “In _love_ … with …”

Gwaine was eyeing him shrewdly.

“You haven’t told him yet?” he asked and Merlin shook his head. Gwen leaned back. “You’d better get on that then. That boy moves fast.”

Merlin nodded and jerked towards the door – only to stop and turn back to Gwaine again.

“Gwaine, I-”

Gwaine gave him a weak smile.

“I know,” was all he said.

“And I _did_ love you, you know. I _do_ love you.” Merlin looked wretched.

Gwaine blinked before nodding, a more genuine smile appearing on his face.

“I know that too.”

Merlin sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He glanced back, an almost wistful-look on his face.

“Don’t hate me?” The words were small, tentative and scared.

Gwaine’s face softened and his shoulders slumped as he leaned against the wall.

“Oh Merlin,” he said, smiling almost helplessly. “I could _never_ hate you.”

Merlin bit his lip to stop the strange wateriness in his eyes.

“Thanks,” was all he said.

Gwaine cleared his throat and nodded at the door.

“Now off with you,” he said, sounding more like his normal self. “You’ve got a man to catch and I – well, I’ve got some wounds to lick. Now get out there and kiss him already – you’ve waited long enough. We’ll talk later. I promise.”

Merlin threw him a blinding smile and took one step towards the door before reversing his direction and then throwing his arms around Gwaine.

“Thank you,” he whispered, fierce and sad and overwhelmed all at once. “You – if I had any sense at all, it would be you.”

Gwaine gave him a wry smile.

“Ain’t that the truth,” he said, before ruffling Merlin’s hair. “Now _go_ so I can drink myself into a coma while listening to Celine Dion on repeat. Just kidding!” he added hastily at the widening of Merlin’s eyes. “Well. About the Celine Dion bit, at any rate.”

Merlin laughed at that, and with one more quick hug and earnest farewell, he left, flying down the road like he had wings on his feet and pixie dust in his lungs.

He was going to see Arthur.

 

*

Arthur was not in his apartment. Merlin briefly considered calling Lance or Gwen or Morgana when he realised that he was being an idiot and that he knew exactly where Arthur was.

Twenty minutes later, he was standing in the doorway of The Great Dragon, scouring the room for a head of blond hair and blue eyes. He found him a second later, sitting at the bar, his head bent over a beer and his posture one that radiated a desire for solitude.

Merlin suddenly found that he was nervous and he almost walked out of the pub right there and then. He would have, too, if Old Kilgharrah hadn’t suddenly looked up from where he was dusting beer glasses from behind the bar and had given him a glare – almost as if he knew exactly what it was that Merlin was contemplating doing. Cowed into submission, Merlin screwed up his courage before stepping forward.

“Hi,” Merlin said, giving Arthur a weak smile as his head jerked up.

Arthur eyed him warily before giving him a cautious nod.

Merlin took that as permission to sit down and took the seat next to Arthur’s. Arthur didn’t say anything, and Merlin was far too nervous to start. However, after another particularly pointed look from Kilgharrah, Merlin realised that he was being a bit of a coward and, taking a deep breath, started to speak.

“So …” he said. “About this morning. We should probably talk about that.”

Arthur seemed to stiffen in his seat at that but after a moment, he sighed and grimaced.

“I know it was stupid,” he said quietly, not meeting Merlin’s eyes. “And I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I just – I’ve been trying so hard to forget you but I _can’t_. And every time I try it just feels like it’s the biggest mistake of my life and believe me, I’ve made a _lot_ of _big_ mistakes.”

Merlin swallowed.

“I guess …” Arthur trailed off helplessly. “I guess I will just have to resign myself to – to forever wanting you.”

Merlin let out a stuttered breath.

“I’m glad,” he said at last, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

Arthur stared at him.

“You’re … _glad_?” he repeated disbelievingly.

“Yes,” Merlin nodded, more confident now. “I’m glad you want me. That you’ll _always_ want me.” At Arthur’s frown he hurriedly continued. “Because that means it’s not just me.”

Whatever Arthur had been about to say was immediately stopped in its tracks as his mouth snapped shut. He stared at Merlin with something new in his eyes, though it was far too distant and full of caution to be called hope.

“I’m … not alone?” he repeated slowly.

Merlin swallowed and timidly shifted nearer to Arthur.

“No,” he said, his voice firm and measured. His hand skimmed across the bar top to curl against Arthur’s. “You’re not.”

He could see Arthur’s adam’s apple roll as Arthur swallowed, even as Merlin moved nearer.

“But Gwaine-” Arthur said weakly but Merlin shook his head.

“Gwaine and I broke up,” he said softly. He didn’t look away when Arthur’s head jerked up and a pair of startled blue eyes stared into his. “I found that I couldn’t be with him in good conscience. Not when I – when I so clearly felt strongly about someone else.”

Arthur was staring at him in wonder now, and he rose from his seat almost unconsciously.

“Merlin,” he murmured, and his voice was tinged with awe and, now, at last, hope. He raised a shaking hand and hesitantly brushed his fingers against Merlin’s cheekbone, just as he had done that very morning.

A lot of things could change in the course of one morning.

Merlin let out a sigh as Arthur’s hand caressed his face and his eyes flickered shut for a second before he opened them. Arthur’s head was tilted forward but he wasn’t moving. Looking at him, Merlin recognised the fear and indecision in his eyes.

Merlin let out a sigh.

“Oh, come here you,” he murmured, grasping Arthur by the back of the neck, and then they were kissing. After years of flirting and hiding and quarrelling and pining, they were finally kissing and it was suddenly as if something that had been missing from Merlin’s life had finally clicked into place. At last, he felt complete. Merlin almost remarked on it, but then Arthur’s fingers sank into his hair and talking was forgotten in the place of a much pleasanter and more necessary moan.

As Merlin’s heart filled slowly filled with happiness and joy, his arms wrapped around Arthur and Arthur’s arms wrapped around him, he was sure that he heard a voice come from over the other side of the bar.

“It’s about bloody time!”

Merlin personally saw fit to agree with this sentiment, but then Arthur started doing something _wonderful_ with his tongue and then Merlin’s brain fizzled out and everything was filled with warmth and sunshine and bliss.

 

 

 

 **HOW MERLIN (FINALLY) GOT HIS HAPPY ENDING AND LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER**

 

 **Merlin looked up at the others from his seat and was rather gratified to see that everyone around him had sappy looks on their faces. Even Gwaine looked almost reluctantly touched.**

 **“And – well – you know the rest,” Merlin twisted his hands in his shirt even as he looked up at Arthur with a fond expression on his face. “A few years later and here we all are. And … that’s the end of the story, I guess!”**

 **“You mean the beginning,” Lance interjected in a terribly earnest voice, his eyes wide and sincere.**

 **Merlin blinked before snorting.**

 **“Right. Sorry Lance, mate, but that was kind of lame.”**

 **“Leave him alone,” Gwen scolded, putting her arm around her husband. “Just wait till _you_ are married, Merlin. You’ll be spouting trite nonsense like that all the time.”**

 **Merlin’s muttered, “God forbid,” came at the same time as Morgana snorted, “he already does,” as well as Lance’s almost hurt, “But I wasn’t spouting trite nonsense!”**

 **Merlin gazed around at all his friends and let out a content sigh. His family had grown a lot since his days at university. Arthur’s fingers trailed across his and they linked their hands together, sharing soft little smiles.**

 **Somehow, Merlin thought to himself. Somehow, despite all the hurdles, the misconceptions and the misunderstandings along the way, everything had turned out beautifully.**

 

Merlin had to admit that he was a bit disappointed with the reactions of the rest of his friends when they found out about him and Arthur. Gwen and Lance were shocked to hear that he had broken up with Gwaine. Even Morgana looked startled at that but then her eyes narrowed and suddenly dipped down to where Merlin and Arthur were sat pressed close together. And then she smiled.

It hadn’t taken long for Gwen and Lance to catch on after that. Their reactions could be better categorised as ‘pleasant surprise’ rather than ‘complete and utter shock’ – both Arthur and Merlin were rather hoping for the latter. However, after having got over the initial surprise at the end of Merlin and Gwaine’s relationship, both Lance and Gwen welcomed the news of Arthur and Merlin’s with happiness and enthusiasm. Lance gave them a smile more becoming of a proud father while Gwen immediately started planning double and triple dates with them and Morgana. Arthur and Merlin glanced at each other uneasily before making their excuses and hurrying off.

*

 

Their relationship was slow to start; contrary to everyone’s expectations, they took things slowly. Merlin was actually surprised at how determined Arthur was to abstain from sex. It was as if he was trying to show Merlin that he had meant what he said about being in the relationship for the long-haul and that this was about more than getting into Merlin’s pants. Merlin was touched and he appreciated it. However, after the first month went by with nothing but hungry kisses and enthusiastic cuddles and groping, Merlin was tired of waiting and one night, jumped Arthur as he came into the bedroom and determinedly had his way with him.

They didn’t leave the bedroom for the entire weekend and by the end of it, Arthur had no reservations whatsoever about jumping Merlin whenever the urge came over him.

The urge came over him very frequently.

Merlin really didn’t mind.

*

 

Most of their acquaintances were surprised to hear of it when Arthur and Merlin reached their first anniversary together as a couple, but this shock soon wore off, and people stopped voicing their surprise at seeing them both still together as the years wore on. Arthur was convinced that they were all secretly mourning the loss of his amazing self now that he was off the market. Merlin was convinced that Arthur was an arrogant prat, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind all that much.

Besides, he thought to himself. Arthur _did_ have a point.

The sex was bloody _brilliant_.

He didn’t tell Arthur that, though. The man _was_ an arrogant prat, after all.

 

Merlin and Arthur moved in together three years after having finally started dating. While to the outsider the arrangement looked like a disaster - what with the both of them bickering over whose turn it was to do the dishes and the laundry and the dusting and then glossing over the problem by having sudden and enthusiastic bouts of sex all over the house – they both secretly revelled in the other’s nearness and the problems of the day were almost always resolved before they went to sleep, curled up in the arms of the other.

It was something a lot like perfection.

 

Gwaine moved away to Ireland soon after he and Merlin broke up. Merlin couldn’t help but feel awful every time his name was mentioned. He knew that Gwaine had meant to move Ireland even without the break-up between them but somehow he couldn’t seem to rid himself of the feeling that it was his fault that Gwaine had gone away. Arthur realised that Merlin felt guilty but he didn’t say anything – chances were that he too felt guilty about Gwaine.

However, it didn’t last for long. After a few months, Gwaine came back to England for a brief visit and though he still carried a torch for Merlin, nothing was mentioned about their relationship and the reunion was a joyful one. Things became even better when Arthur casually revealed that a dear childhood friend of his had very conveniently chosen the same time to pay him a visit.

It had been something akin to love at first stumble when Gwaine met Elena and his visits to England became a lot more frequent after that. It wasn’t long after that he and Elena announced what the whole group had already known for a while: that they were dating and that they were serious about each other. Gwaine was happy which had made Merlin happy which made Arthur happy. And, Arthur was quickly discovering, making Merlin happy was something that he was especially fond of, and he resolved to do so as often and for as long as he could.

 

Arthur’s thoughts thus soon turned to marriage. Merlin, to be honest, had never actually seriously thought about marrying Arthur. He knew that calling Arthur ‘commitment-shy’ was an understatement and he knew that Arthur simply being with him in a relationship was a huge step forward, so he never even brought up the idea of marriage. Arthur had to admit that he was initially hurt, especially when he considered that Merlin had proposed to Freya after just a year and Gwaine had proposed even sooner.

When Morgana realised the reason for Arthur’s sulky attitude, she rolled her eyes and gave him a good (but sadly just metaphorical) kick up the arse and explained that Merlin would love nothing better than to be married but he was holding back on account of Arthur. Upon realising this, Arthur stopped sulking and dithering and went out to find the perfect ring.

He had proposed a week later.

Merlin, of course, immediately said yes.

 

They were married in a small, private ceremony, surrounded by friends and family. Gwen burst into tears, and even Morgana’s eyes looked suspiciously wet, though she blamed that on her husband Leon’s overenthusiastic use of cologne.

Gwaine was the best man.

Arthur almost regretted it when Gwaine’s best man’s speech was a bit _too_ revealing and when a crate full of alcohol was reported as having mysteriously disappeared. But one look at Merlin’s beaming face was enough to throw all worries out of his mind.

Arthur had never been happier.

 

 

A few other memorable important events took place as time went on:

 

Despite his previous vehement denials, it eventually turned out that there _was_ in fact one person in the world who could make Merlin wear a dress. It was July 31st and the night of their stag party. Before Merlin knew what was happening, Arthur was batting his eyelashes at him, and he had somehow found himself inside an actually very attractive and flattering dress. At first it hadn’t gone over too well – Merlin was flushed and embarrassed, and Arthur soon became jealously moody and sullen over all the wolf-whistles that Merlin received from various men around the room. It all ended well though when in a fit of possessiveness, Arthur suddenly dragged Merlin away, pushed him into the nearest empty room, and then thoroughly had his way with him. Merlin got complimented, Arthur got laid, and Lance got his free drinks for an entire year. A win-win situation for all.

 

Morgana was finally granted the status of being a proper Londoner after she finally gave in and got an oyster card, learned the names of all the lines and their stops, and more importantly – started suggesting taking the tube instead of taking a taxi. A They had a party to celebrate.

 

 

Despite the enormous changes in all of their lives, not a single one of them ever forgot the importance that The Great Dragon had for each and every one of them. When they actually thought about it, things hadn’t really changed all _that_ much. The five of them still met there every weekend and they still drank obscene amounts of alcohol. Merlin still racked up a huge bar tab which he conveniently kept forgetting to pay, and Arthur still flirted with everything that moved (although now the flirting was harmless and was immediately halted the moment that Merlin walked into the room). Kilgharrah still regarded them with fond exasperation and cryptic comments, though now they were more about having a ‘Destiny fulfilled!’ rather than anything else. And sure, their group may have expanded slightly – Morgana brought Leon, and Gwaine, whose father’s company now had a London branch which he headed up, was always a frequent visitor and that of course meant that Elena became one as well. Somehow though, Merlin found that he didn’t really mind.

He looked around him and took in the faces of all of his closest friends and the smiling eyes of the man he loved. It wasn’t at all where he had expected to end up but he couldn’t bring himself to complain in the least. At the end of the day, he thought, smiling to himself, maybe change wasn’t so bad after all.

His wedding ring glinted against the beer glass as he took a long, contented sip and he sat back and as the sounds from the pub washed over him.

He really couldn’t complain.

Merlin Emrys finally had his happy ending.

 

 

 **The End.**


End file.
